Trucking Back to Auckland

Early the next morn I took off on the long journey south, I was trying to break the back of the return journey to Auckland. Got a few spins down the west coast. Some absolutely bang on Cuzzy Bru's (Maori's) to shoot the breeze with, some lamenting the changes to the area with the slow emergence of large farmers in the area. Back in the day, each family had their own piece of land to farm and there was a great spirit in the community.  Now its too difficult to make a living from the land so most have to travel into the nearby town, Kaitia, to get a crust.  Again, splendid scenery, rolling green hills as far as the eye could see.

One of the lads, as far from a hippy as you could imagine, had a self sustaining lifestyle - 2 goats, a few pigs (one of which he kills every 6 months) and a vegetable garden does the trick for him as well as fishing in the ocean nearby. "If you can't live off the land here bru, somethings the matter with you" he announced.

I was hoping to make it across to Opononi but time was against me, I was wrecked and I'd heard about a great place to stay in near Kohukohu called the Treehouse. I'd really enjoyed camping til now but this joint was something else. An Australian couple had moved over from Sydney 30 years ago (brave move! Kiwi attitudes to Australians are nearly on a par with Welsh attitudes to English people!).

They'd built this fantastic timber building which was used as a guesthouse, they'd a few old school buses which they'd turned into accommodation as well, but the most impressive thing was the planting they'd done, which had matured into what wasn't far off a rainforest at this stage. I felt like I was in a jungle lodge in Thailand.  It was just me and two young German pups. I was ruined so crashed very early.

The next morning I took the ferry to Rawene, got a spin right off the boat with an absolutely sound German couple from Saarbrucken whose names evade me as I type. I recounted the story of when myself, Quin and Moz overnighted there on the way to watch us play Switzerland in Basle in 2003 and how Moz emptied his guts onto me in his sleep cos his stomach couldn't take the two Weissbiers he'd had that night. They were very amused !

Our routes were very similar so I spent a great day with them, stopping off in a few Kauri Forests to see some amazing trees, some of which were over 2000 years old, with 13m wide trunks.

Tane Mahuta - a 2000 year old Kauri tree

They brought me all the way to Warkworth where I was determined to make it to Tawaranui again. I was waiting for a lift when a guy in a pick-up pulled in and signalled to chuck my gear in the back. I flung my backpack in only narrowly avoiding a massive fckin carcass lying in the back.  I jumped in anyway, yer man was dead on, real character.  I asked him what the fck was that yoke in the back!? It was a deer he'd killed the day before.  This fella was a professional hunter for the Department of Conservation, basically killing any non-native animals roaming the hills - wild pigs, wild deer and wild goats predominantly.  He pointed to a nearby mountain where he said he cleared 1431 goats from in the past four years.  In the first year he'd done about 1000, second about 300, third he killed 30.  It took him an entire year using GPS, a pack of trained dogs and his intuition to snare the last one.

Little Barrier Island seen from Tawaranui

I camped up that night in the National Reserve and took off the next morn towards Auckland. Struggled for a lift out of there as everyone was heading into the park rather than out of it due to it being a public holiday. Started walking and eventually I got collected by eh the Postman! Did his rounds with him before he dropped me back at the main road. Absolute legend of a man, recounted all his travels and years of working on cruise ships, spent a good bit of time in Ireland and knew Cork pretty well.

Eventually arrived in Auckland and went to meet my old mucker Ben Kidd. Went to school and played ball with Ben for years before he'd headed home to Auckland.  Had zero contact with him since then so it was class to see him. Same as he was years ago, he was enjoying life and is now working as a physical fitness and conditioning coach for Auckland's female netball team and their academy.  Netball is huge in Australia and New Zealand for girls.  We hung out for the day just talking shite and reminiscing about days of yore before he dropped me off to meet Trev at Elerslie Station.

Trev flew up from Auckland and we were crashing at his pal Cam's joint. Had a class night out in Galacos where we were joined by John aka Double Suspension, who we were heading away with the next day.  Really good night in there with some proper old school Auckland dj's who were really well renowned but didn't play often.They knocked out the disco and house numbers for the night.  Great night out and true to form, Trev lost his wallet which confused and annoyed the shite out of him !!

Cape Reinga and Ze Germans

Next day I got a spin from a German couple who'd been at the campsite, but I hadn't spoken to - Yannick and Vera.  They were travelling with their friends Broghart and Saskia and their one year old kid Paul, all hailing from Dresden, and again extremely cool East Germans. Both couples had really great refitted old vans, decked out wonderfully and their home for the next few months. Hung out with them for a few days and our paths would cross again.

They were also heading for Tapotutpotu Bay up the road, closer to Cape Reinga. Again a great DOC campground in a fantastic setting, beautiful white sanded beach, nestled between two green headlands and aqua-marine waters, the colours bouncing off one another real nice. On arrival we bumped into Camille and Laurent from Bay of Islands trip. We took off on a coastal trek to Cape Reinga, which took in a few more beaches and headlands, fantastic scenery.

A little cove on the trek to Cape Reinga

Cape Reinga is the most northerly point of New Zealand and there's a wonderful view of where the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean collide, these insane whirlpools and currents that would gobble you up and spit you out. Against the advice of ze Germans I decided to power on and do what was meant to be Day 2 of a 3 day trek, we'd done Day 1, head across the beach and over to Cape Marie Van Diemen.

Cape Marie Van Diemen in the distance

*sitting here trying to write this and the two Filipino girls next to me are blasting out Boyzone songs. There's nothing like Ronan Keatings voice to make my skin crawl and head to slump. Boyzone - The Great Irish Shame!

Anyway, where was I, yeah was making good time, generally twice the predicted time, I'd make it no hass. But with all of these things, you get to one high point and another one appears. Trekking through sand ain't no joke.  I eventually made it over there but the hour was not in my favour, it would be dark soon. I sat there for about ten minutes, soaked it all up, the beautifully wild yet serene picture in front of me, and looked back at the desert like terrain that I had crossed and it was a magical sight indeed.

The path trodden

I had about two hours to do the four hour trek before darkness fell. Fought my way down through an absolute thicket of reeds (no path round these parts) and over the desert-like dunes.

I was then met by a forest that was pretty spooky and dark before the markers directed me to a field of cows.  First I had to make sure they were cows and not bulls ! Then I began to negotiate a way between them.  It was like a friggin computer game, each cow I approached was an enemy to overcome. Each cow and calf combo I encountered forced me into a Mexican Stand-off where I'd have to stare the mother down whilst moving past them with a sideways shuffle. This took bloody ages but they'd all eventually leg it once I'd psyched them out of it.

*They're playing the goddam Corrs now. Jeaaaysus !

Eventually I made it to the main road as night fell. At least I had a fair idea of where I was, and only had another 4-5 k's to walk. In pitch black darkness ! I eventually made it back to the campsite, absolutely bate out. In fairness to them, Yannick and Vera threw me up a hearty vegetarian meal, nothing like a eh chickpea salad to fill the stomach  after a day of hiking !

Lesson Learned: when a german tells you that you are wrong, you should f-ing listen to them !

North Side

The next morning I got a spin off the building inspector from the local Council out doing his rounds, I stopped off in Monganui for my morning coffee, where some aul wan was so enamoured by my being Irish that she asked me to could I come out and work on her farm. I assured her that there wasn't a baby in the world with a bottom softer than my hands !

After spending a day extra in Paihia I had to miss out on Matai Bay which was a dose cos again it came very highly recommended by Diana the Kraut. I was heading all the way north to Cape Reinga. Got a spin off a phenomenally cool old geezer who arrived in the country 15 years earlier with his wife and not a word of english between them. They had spent the majority of their lives in communist East Germany, which I'd imagine, was no bag of laughs. He had a plumbing business for 12 years in Auckland (after spending the first year waiting for a work visa and learning english).  They sold that up, moved north and bought a farm.  They'd no experience nor an idea of what they were doing but learned how to make cheese and harvest olives and now they've a fully fledged hobby farm, the produce of which they sell at the market at weekends, with their free time spent scuba diving. Some pup and some life he has !

Northland and especially the Far North (thats actually the name, these white settlers weren't the most inventive lot!) is a magical place, absolutely beautiful, with rolling green hills and pristine, mostly untouched white sanded beaches and a fantastic climate.  Generally the people I met, while maybe not the most amazing craic or anything were absolutely sound out. Really laid back, all-round decent and easy to get along with.

Northland countryside

Got a few lifts off Maori guys and I've never been so enthralled by an accent before, unreal ! They are all exactly like the characters from Boy, a high pitched stacatto-like voice where they practically put a fully stop after every word !

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uULUhAa90z0

Generally speaking, it was the most successful hitchhiking I'd ever done, rarely waiting for more than ten minutes.  Twice, I'd cars pull up before I'd even gotten my bags from the previous car ! While mostly, guys my own age, I got collected by all sorts, old women, families, the works.  But as I waited at the turn off for Spirits Bay, I was ready to change plans because not one car had passed me and I'd waited for over an hour.  All of a sudden a car came screeching around the corner and jammed on the breaks.  It was a gravel road and as we sped down it, Adam from England, shouted at me that he does rally driving back home.  As my face practically retreated into my head from the speed we were travelling, I mustered a nod back to him, Jeaaysus. He was just coming to the end of a 2 year round-the-world trip, 2 weeks here, 2 weeks there. I could quite imagine it, certainly if he traveled like he drove anyway. When I told him I was off to Zambia, he said it was in his top three countries he'd been to alongside Vietnam and Colombia.  Music to my ears, any country on a par with Colombia is good by me.

Spirits Bay was fantastic, we sat down on this vast, open beach, about 3km in length with two jutting headlands on either side.  Like most places it had a strong significance to Maori culture, it was where the spirits of the dead gathered before departing on their final journey to the afterlife.

Spirits Bay

After Adam had legged it, leaving a dust-storm in his wake, I camped out at a really cool DOC (Department of Conservation) campsite and got chatting to McCall and Alex, a cool Canadian couple who were planning on doing the 3 day hike out around Cape Reinga the following day. We went out to the beach to watch the sun set, a fantastic experience.

Tally Ho !

In hindsight (and probably foresight to come to think of it), working til the friday before the monday  wasn't ideal but I managed.  Still, after 5 hours kip (packing boxes for shipping til 3 in the am) and an epic weekend finale I managed to make my Sydney flight in plenty of time, courteousy of J L Spanos Taxi Service.  My 9 weeks of travel were to commence. First stop Sydney.

Purpose purely to visit my aunty Josephine before I left her as the sole Daly in Australia.  She was none too impressed by my departing! Met up with Laura Sull (late of Bishopstown) and her pal Louise down in Coogee. Dinner with Jo and Richard followed and just relaxed for the eve.  Early flight to Auckland awaited me the next day.

My third trip to New Zealand having hitched around the South Island two years previously and a long weekend with Hessie to visit Trev and the Duffmeister (an incident packed weekend that was !), both of which had whetted my appetite for a third.  On arrival I had planned on heading north straight away but serious winds (up to 200km/h) put paid to that so I decided to stay put in Auckland for the night.

It mightn't look it but New Zealand is bloody big (tiny compared to Australia but 3.5 times the size of Ireland with a similar population size) so I had planned to limit my trip to Northland and the Coromandel. Had such a good time hitching previously and I was traveling alone for the most part I decided to repeat the task, partly for practicality reasons but mainly for adventure. Maybe I've become bored of actually arriving in my planned location on time by bus or something !  But continually met the coolest, interesting people who'd all hitched themselves in the past.

Got onto Izzy, my ole pal from my early Melbourne day, lived together in East Brunswick with the Wangaratta Crew (Nat, Joe and Stef). Izzy had moved back to Auckland and was living with her boyfriend and his pals in a converted shop on Symonds Street, really central location. Great to catch up with her again.

Took off early the day, bused to Silverdale, stocked up on supplies and stuck the thumb out. Not a great spot to commence but got a few short lifts and I was away.  Two young german shams who were living in some hut in the forest brought me most of the way (their car seemed to have been lived in for a fair bit of time too, fuckin mank!).

After a failed attempt at getting to Tawharanui (campsite was closed), the guy who brought me there dropped me all the way back to where he'd first collected me, I got a lift from an old English guy by the name of  Richard. Absolute gent of a man, dropped me (again, completely out of his way) to Goat Island and insisted on collecting me the next morning, which he did, to help me on my way.  He also invited me to visit himself and his wife on their estate at Hawkes Bay for a few days, legend. Unfortunately it was a fair bit out of my way so I couldn't.



That day I made my way up to Paihia the tourist town from which to access the Bay of Islands, which is the major kiwi attraction in Northland. Camped in the holiday park (which was surprisingly good, not usually a fan), lovely setting overlooking an estuary, and some sound people staying there, some good nattering was done.

Photo of dawn breaking from my tent in Paihia

Hung out with Diana the Kraut the next day, decent company if fairly dry, doing touristy things like visiting Waitangi, where the Treaty was signed (as late as 1840) basically turning the country into a colony of England.  I couldn't really see why this was this was is annually celebrated as a significant day for the country as it seemed to have sold the Maori people a pup (the crafty fckers wrote up a different Treaty in English with quite different conditions!).  But apparently it gave the Maori's a better deal than they'd have otherwise gotten. Headed over to Russell, the first capital of the country, and a heritage town. Pretty bland and dull to me.

Early the next morn I set off on a yacht with Laurent and Camille, a french couple and our skipper Glenn to the Bay of Islands.  Great day out, beautiful spot generally.  A rake of dolphins out there and a visit to the lovely Waewaetorea Island.  Later that night I talked the frenchies through the NZ v Aus match as they'd never watched rugby before !

Waewaetora Island

Next day I bailed, (not before time, gettin slightly tired of Paihia's touristy feel). Sweltering heat and a few lifts later (one from an 80+ year old woman - I love these stereotype defeating occurrences!) I got dropped off at the turn off to Taupo Bay (which came highly recommended by Diana the Kraut). Waited for quite a while, no traffic on this gravel road, finally a pick-up came screaming around the corner and jammed on the breaks. The two lads told me to jump aboard, I gladly obliged. As we tore off again, a hand sprung out the window with a bottle, the two lads were boozin (as you do!), it was a pre-mixed bottle of bourbon and coke, rancid shit but I didn't want to appear ungrateful so I grabbed it and took a few token swigs.  Good buzz all the same, traveling in the back of the pick-up with the wind battering me. Dropped me all the way to the beach, who says rednecks can't be sound ! Taupo was only gorgeous, more appealing than the Bay of Islands even.

Taupo Bay

Melbourne Town

Looking back now, tis nearly three years since I arrived to Australia's shores, part of the most recent wave of Eire's youth flocking out across the world, our nomadic tribe, in a movement that has coloured our history and both enriched and pained our people.  Its a country that exists well beyond its boundaries.

My arrival in November 2010 took in a process of detainment that many experienced in Ellis Island in the past and many non-white arrivee's still experience today before finally setting foot on Australian soil.  My 36 hours in Kuala Lumpur International Airport, however, was completely of my own doing and not of the authorities.  I had spent the day scratching my ass, waiting to head to the airport, completely unaware that my flight was 1 hour earlier than i'd thought. Clown ! Missed it by ten minutes (I did eventually cope on) and spent the next day and a half like that Iranian sham who spent 17 years in Charles De Gaulle airport (although he didn't have The Sopranos to help him through it).

I left Melbourne with so many positive memories and a life richer for having lived there. It was fuckin class. Leaving came quickly, the decision was more about timing as long as I still had the freedom to decide. I did. I was off. Thank you and g'luck !

I will miss the place, I had great people there that I shared the three years with. Top notch. That's the hard part. It was the first place I'd moved to that I had people already there - Keefe, Brads, Wonger, Rowan, Spanos and Trev (three hours away up in the hills).  The first two legged it after a few weeks but the others were a major help, ready made networks whose friends became my friends.  That makes the lot of a dirty immigrant all the easier and I didn't really experience the tough settling in period, at least not a prolonged one.

Its a really stimulating city, an easy one in which to exist.  The contrast between life in Gertrude St of Fitzroy and that which awaits me in Zambia couldn't be starker! A largely white, secular, liberal area where stresses revolved around which cafe to breakfast in and which to take coffee in (to do both in the same place would be an unthinkable waste).  But with that, the cushy living, comes a lack, of what I'm not sure but the grittiness and friction that comes in other less 'liveable' places brings also stimulation and interest.  Not that it lacks character but a monoculture of 'creatives' and 'progressives' detracts from an area having a 'soul' so to speak.

My pad in Fitzroy

Melbourne gave me a lot. Super friends, work was great, and I'd a helluva lot of fun. In hindsight it worked out wonderfully, Canada may also have. I left while the going was good but I was comfortable that the timing was right.  My gut agreed and my gut has been good to me over the years.

Leaving was a bit of a rush but I probably managed it better than I expected.  Working up until the friday before my before my monday departure put me under all sorts of pressure to carry out all the things that needed doing but it got done.  A quality weekend to wrap it up was had, centred around a tremendous friday eve at Lilly Blacks, a typical laneway city centre watering hole that is a speciality that Melbourne does oh so well.  Having to work around the different groups required a bit of effort but it was so great to see all those I'd spent the previous three years with and a wonderful send-off to boot that continued into the not so early hours of the morning, gettting down in Boney.

Melbourne, I tip my hat to you, its been immense.