Mon 20 May
Welcome to tonight's exclusive episode of NZ Girls. You are the camera crew, piling into the back of Tin-Tin, exchanging nervous glances as KJ cranks the stiff steering wheel around the winding cliff side hair-pin turns, shifting from 4th to 3rd to 2nd as the grade takes you higher, overlooking the layers of rolling green hills terraced by hundreds of years of cattle grazing on the steep slopes.
With A's place lost in the rear view long ago, all energy blockers disintegrate. The Beatles "Two of Us" plays in the background with the girls singing along gaily. NZ Girls's theme song. Pay attention to the lyrics; it's perfect.
Things get steamy when Tin-Tin chugs up to Ngawha Springs. Bathing suits are required for soaking in the geothermal mineral pools… too bad.
The girls prance from tub to tub, testing for the perfect temperature like Goldilocks testing porridge. This one is juuust right, a 39 (c) degree murky brown bath that appears as if Pig Pen was its latest occupant.
With mind and body cleansed by the hot soup, we continue on to Kawakawa to grace the world famous Hundertwasser toilets with our deserving derrieres.
An hour or so later the girls and the crew arrive in the Bay of Islands town of Paihia. They have their hearts set on a 10k tramp just by Waitangi, the most historically significant sight in NZ. The Waitangi Treaty Grounds became a place of extreme interest after 43 Maori chiefs signed a treaty with the British crown in 1840. The museum on sight houses many culturally significant artifacts including a copy of the highly controversial document. The girls decline the pricey admission fee and follow their feet into the bush in search of Haruru Falls, despite the sun's low position in the sky.
Torches and rain gear packed, they brave the narrow, muddy path through thick ferns and prevailing pines, past bridges over calm waters, and even through a boardwalk meandering through a mangrove grove until they reach the falls just as the sun bids its evening adieu. The falls are a semi circle of an all encompassing continuous din of rushing water. They're beautiful, but the true purpose of the tramp awaits. After all, this… is… Kiwi habitat!
The cameras switch to night vision and a hush falls over the crew and their subjects. The girls don their torches and giggle expectantly. Everyone's figures are dark green save the lights from the torches and the glow from eyes. The trek takes twice as long on the return because the girls begin to sporadically jump off trail to follow a noise, or stand stick straight and hold up a librarian's finger, shining their light into the unknown. Battery powered light is unnecessary on the mangrove boardwalk. The nearly full moon illuminates the way in a milky pallor. In the end, it's not the destination but the journey that makes the trip. There are no predators to be afraid of!
The elusive Kiwi evades the search, but a cuddly Morepork Owl is spotted in a branch only a meter above the bobbing headlamps. And what's more, the girls discover The Jewels of the Forest. Spider's eyes! At first glance they reflect light much like rain droplets, but if further examined they illuminate like facetted sapphires, shining back brilliant blue gemstones by the thousands. Literally, thousands. Even though they're harmless to humans, you'll regard a tromp off trail as a visit to Spiderville from now on. Amazing what you can discover if you take the time to look.
A reunion with Tin-Tin, a ferry ride to Russell, and the girls spend their first night sleeping on the queen sized mattress located in the boot of an old tin can in the parking lot of a motel. Another day, another adventure. Every day is a little wilder when you're in NZ.
Tues 21 May
Watching the sun rise is an interesting experience. It's light enough to read a book, but I can't see where it's coming from. Then it drops a hint. A tiny crack of gold peeking over the distant islands. One looks remarkably like a
boobie, Double D. The wispy clouds are streaked with purple and pink tints. The moment of suspense builds, and then there it is! That white hot liquid gold burning its way onto the horizon, so bright you have to focus on its reflection in the water to really see it. Immediately I feel it on my skin and its warmth is so inviting I shed down to a sun dress while we prepare tea and breakfast. Long Beach sunrise is not a bad way to start our first morning of nomadic living.
Discovering Donkey Beach, an unofficial nudist beach, is not a bad way to erase some tans lines either.
The day of adventurous leisure peaks with a 3 hour catamaran cruise among the Bay of Island's 144 volcanic isles to the iconic 'Hole in the Rock' off the coast of Cape Brett. With the low autumn sun sinking past the dramatic contours of the horizon, we watch a pod of bottle nose dolphins leap and splash by our boat. Jamie's squeals of delight are adorable and I too utter cries of thrill each time the playful marine mammals burst from the sea below.
Our day concludes as it began. Beachside. This time on Otamure Beach near Whananaki, a few hours south east of BOI. We sit in our camp chairs dining on canned tuna and road side bell peppers, necks craned to behold the brilliant stars above. It's nearly a full moon. Orion looks over us, his gaze inverted in the southern hemisphere. Our entertainment tonight: a lightning storm in the distance accompanied by the sound of waves crashing on the beach. Where am I? Is this real?
Wed 22 May
After a warm breakfast and a beach walk we head to Whangarei to meet our next WWOOFing hosts, a German couple.
As the days pass we get to know U & W better and better. We open up to them and in return they enlighten us with their opinionated world views about raising, killing and eating meat, past lives, cranial osteopathy, botany, organic gardening, GE (Genetically Engineered [organisms]), the NZ health care system, German heritage, sailing, energy healing, and many more diverse topics. They are quirky Germans that never had kids of their own because they were too busy spending their 20's sailing around the world. You name it, they've sailed there. Stranded with no wind for months off the coast of Venezuela, fishing in the mediterranean.
They're well read, don't believe in fad anythings (diets, trends, gossip, rumors, beliefs, etc.), which means they form their opinions based on their own educations (U has at least one degree in botany) and extensive roll-up-your-sleeves-and-dig-in research. They know a lot about many subjects and know at least a little about most subjects you could evoke.
In fact, U reminds me, in looks and in mannerisms, of Steve Mertz. He's sharp and witty with a dry sense of self-deprecating humor, has kind eyes and a big heart. He knows more random facts and information than the average bear, and can float away on a tangent for dozens of minutes. Regardless, he's entertaining and you end up listening to the whole spiel anyway. You just have to listen a little more carefully because of the thick German accent. If you know Mr. Mertz you can pretty much conjure an image of U's forest of facial hair. A head full of wavy white locks cascading into a wiry full beard and mustache. You could cover a home-made badger with his beard clippings.
Now that I think about it, W looks a little like Kara Mertz. Now I'm thinking too much about it. Anyway, they're a well-suited couple with a lot of respect and love for each other and it creates a welcoming, cozy energy throughout their home and 180 acres of land.
I assume the positive vibes carry that far, but I can't explore the full acreage because most of the land they leave as native wild bush, untouched by tractor or hoe. They land they do cultivate are grazing paddocks for their kune kune pigs, goats, chooks and cows. They have multiple green houses, storage sheds, veggie garden beds, trellises for passion fruit and chocos (green pumpkin-like fruit in the gourd family), loads of fruit trees, and a few other developed plots, including the one we're currently helping U clear for more fruit tree planting. "A massacre of trees to plant more trees." Is what he calls it.
Sat 25 May
A day off. We've only worked 2.5 days, but apparently we've earned it. My body agrees after the hours of timber hauling. So we catch a ride into town (Whangarei) with U & W at 7am. Backpacks full of rain gear, maps, and PBJs, we embark on a 13k practice tramp beginning at Whangarei Falls (the Kim Kardashian of waterfalls) and terminating at the town basin where U & W retrieve us. After taking in the cascades pouring over basalt cliffs, we meander through native bush following the Hatea River and Wai Koromiko Stream. A canopy walkway gives us a bird's eye view of the forest floor and safely delivers us to the doorstep of several ancient Kauri relics. The bark is dimpled and hard as cement, but the roots are shallow and fragile, making any foot traffic highly detrimental to the venerable old saps. Without the raised walkway you cannot approach any Kauris due to rampant Kauri die-back disease spread by contaminated soil on visiting soles.
In 2km we climb from sea level to 241m (nearly 800ft) in elevation. Should have been a breeze coming from a city whose average altitude is at least a mile above the sea. Feeling my heart pumping in my hammer-smashed thumb, we ascend the eroded volcanic cone to Parihaka Reserve where the remnants of Maori settlement remain. Apparently there are household terraces, kumara (sweet potato) pits and a few sacred Pa sites along the ridge, but to the ignorant eye I never knew what I was looking at.
The summit provides an orienting view of the city and harbour and is the site of Whangarei's War Memorial. We take a seat and I pull the hood of my purple rain jack over my head as the drizzle begins and we finish the last of our PJB stock.
The path back down is quick and follows a creek descending from a natural spring pouring from a subterranean source. The water is ice cold and clear as glass. I cup my hands like Oliver and sip, drinking in a bit of NZ that becomes a part of me.
Back at home (U & W's) we sip tea by the fire as the rain pours and the wind blows and plan our first big tramp to take place next week. I am stuffed to the gills with warm fuzzies. Content, relaxed, at peace, warm and cozy. Living in the moment, I've forgotten what day it is in Colorado.
Sun 26 May - Tues 28 May
We've probably spent more time eating here than working. W is a great chef, concocting rich meals from mushroom & pork gravy on mashed potatoes to chicken & veggie soup over home-made noodles. Always accompanied by a fresh green salad from the garden. Apple, current & nut strudel to die for. I've eaten every meal here like it's my last. It's poured rain off and on, even hailing a time or two.
U, in his nearly constant zen-like state, instructs us not to work too hard, so we take a tea break every hour or so, per his gentle persistence. As long as they're happy to feed us and satisfied with whatever tasks we can perform, then I can't complain. Their way of life is simple, not at all in a low intelligence way, but in an uncomplicated, worry-free, yet still productive fashion. Why stress? Take in one endeavor at a time, and get it done at your own pace. Don't force it and don't focus on the whole lot.
I've learned a lot here, mostly just by listening. I have trouble expressing myself when I feel a bit over my head intellectually.
Our next adventure awaits. On Wednesday we leave U & W and head for a 3-4 day backpacking tramp on Cape Reinga.
Projects at U & W's:
Cutting and hauling fallen timber (Totara & Titree) to fire basin and burning for charcoal. Shoveling charcoal into bags and loading unto tractor. Harvesting & deseeding choco (pumpkin/squash like veggie). Repairing & refurbishing inclosure for ducks. Weeding garden beds. Fruit tree harvesting. Fish tank filter cleaning. General organization of fish's glass house.
Pictures:
Ngawha Springs
Hundertwasser toilets
Haruru Falls
Long Beach sunrise
Breakfast on Long Beach
Dolphin Cruise
Hole in the Rock
Sunrise on Beach 2
U & W's Belted Gallaway
Kunekune Pigs!
The beach isn't sandy. As we cross over the hill that empties out unto the beach, Spirits Bay, my feet sink into hundreds of millions of broken shell bits, smoothed out by the relentless, rhythmic toss and turn, give and take of the sea. They're purple & peach, sea foam green & sky blue, striped & solid and wet enough to reflect the glow from the sunset. To my left the beach wraps around for miles until it abruptly end where the cliffs of wild bush begin in the far distance. The lighthouse at the cape begins to flash as the evening descends. To think, we'll be trekking this coast and reach the lighthouse before the sun sets again tomorrow. 
Nostalgia and I are becoming well acquainted. Clingy thing follows me everywhere. Right when I thought it had wandered off, it creeps back up into my peripheral. On my solo even beach walk I sat with it, let it share my rock by the tidal pool, and instead of running away, I made a kind of peace with it. What's in the past will always be there to revisit, but what serves me now is soaking in the present. Even if it feels lonely, it still feels right. Look where you are! You got yourself here! Every previous moment has been building up to this one! And the possibilities from here on out are endless if I make it so.
Funny how it all works out. Cape Reinga is even more of a tourist trap than a sacred Maori site than I had pictured. Te Rerenga-Wairua, the jumping off point for souls as they depart this earth on a journey to their homeland. Coincidentally, or maybe not, it's also the point where the Pacific & Tasman sea meet in a tumultuous mixing of waters. But today is calm and clear. 
We camp at the beach side site of Tapotupotu, a large grassy green patch with facilities, motorhomes & camper vans with designs depicting "Shaved Beavers." Wandering in wearing everything we needed, we would have camped here on the second night of our mighty tramp. Instead, we saunter through inside a tin can. Falling asleep to the imbibed ruckus of a merry band of singing Japanese folks celebrating the Queen's birthday with round after round of fireworks and camp songs. And that sound, the reassuring endlessness of the waves I've grown so used to. You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.
We spend a relaxed, lazy morning at camp, then head to Te Paki Stream to investigate the area where our epic tramp would have terminated. Miles of rolling sand dunes are cut in half by a shallow stream bed which empties out into the wild Tasman Sea. It's quite a long walk, and when we've tired of running up and down the dunes, we hitch a ride the rest of the way with a dad, Russell, and his kids out for a Sunday drive in their big blue truck. He slices through the puddles in the stream, making the 20 somethings squeal with delight as the fresh water splashes over the sides of the pick up bed.
5 New Zealand Lagers & 2 Salted bait fish later, we're back at camp frying up fresh fish n' chips for dinner. The 'fish' portion was swimming in the Pacific ocean off of Rarawa beach not half an hour earlier. Anne Marie's cast had just enough of that special somethin' to hook that apple, I mean fishy, and bring him/her out of the sea and into our frying pan. 
We spend the next morning catching three more yellow tail fish to present as an offering to Leigh and Donna, Anne Marie's current WWOOFing hosts. They graciously invite the American tagalongs into their home made of red cob cement located down a long driveway that crosses through (not over) two streams, horse and pig paddocks, and stretches of native bush, opening up to a little slice of paradise complete with waterfall vistas and a heart shaped swimming hole. 100% solar powered, water provided by a chilly mountain spring, gorgeous tile artwork, and a bush bath!
