After breakfast and packing up our little hut, which had provided us with a most comfortable, dry and warm night’s sleep, we wandered over to the main reception area of the park we were staying in so that we could use their WiFi to plan the next stage of our trip. As we sat there, I heard another guest chatting to the receptionist. His accent was clearly English and when I looked closer, he seemed very familiar. I couldn’t quite work out if I knew him, but eventually I just went over and did the whole “do I know you?” routine. It turned out that I did. He had been a housemaster at my school and was on a retirement trip with his wife. It was very weird to bump into someone we knew deep in the heart of the NZ outback, and we had a good chat catching up on things. However, we had to press on and they were staying another night, so we said our goodbyes, laughed again at the coincidence, and then drove off into the rain, aiming for Queenstown.

The drive was beautiful, despite the rain, and as we got closer to the town the weather started clearing. As we descended into Wanaka, a town just short of Queenstown where we were going to get some supplies, the sun finally came out and the scenery was absolutely stunning. On the way out of the town, we stopped to pick up a hitchhiker. His name was Justice, and he was an 18 year old American guy hitching his was around NZ. He stayed with us for the next few hours as we made our way though the ski area and stopped off at the bungee for lunch, where we ate our wraps watching all the thrill seekers throw themselves off a bridge. Hoff had done this bungee last time she was in NZ, something she’s not really ever told me about (if the sarcasm doesn’t come through here, Hoff must have told me over a hundred times about this bungee. It’s even her Facebook profile picture!).

Pulling into Queenstown, we said bye to Justice, who had, moments before getting out of the car, told us that he was feeling under the weather and wasn’t sure if he had Coronavirus. What a parting comment! We hastily set up our tent as the weather was rolling in and then set off into town to find something to drink (and drown any initial virus before it could take hold). We ended up having a drink on a floating bar, which was lovely despite the high winds. From our short walk though the town, I could already tell that Queenstown was going to be a fun place, and we went to celebrate our arrival with a curry. We’d both been hankering after one for a while, and the smell of spices and peshwari naans wafted into our nostrils as we entered the restaurant. It was with great anticipation that we took our first mouthfuls of curry, and with great disappointment that we looked at each other afterwards. Hoff’s curry was more like a beef stroganoff and mine lacked any kind of punch. We’ve not been able to get a decent curry anywhere on our trip, and the wait was set to continue. 0 from 3 so far isn’t a great record! Dejected, we got back to our tent and zipped up just before the rain started. The weather the next day was looking good, so we put the memories of bad curries behind us and got our heads down, recharging our batteries for the next few days.

As if we hadn’t had enough adrenaline for the month, today was the day that we were going to be doing our canyon swing. As the name suggests, essentially its a massive swing that, unsurprisingly, drops down into a canyon near Queenstown. It is world famous and many celebrities have done it, from Justin Bieber to the England rugby team. Hoff’s family had ‘kindly’ given it to me for Christmas, and Hoff had then bought a ticket herself so that we could do it as a pair. I think she rather regretted that decision as we stepped out onto the platform and awaited our turn. The people in front of us, a couple who worked up the road at Franz Joseph, decided that they were going to jump off together. We had the same idea, but seeing the next jumper go, a young German girl who cried and cried before she went (but in all credit to her, eventually went), slightly put us off our stride. Therefore, when it came to our go, Hoff was basically petrified and for a second I thought she might not go at all. However, she pulled herself together, and before we knew it we were hanging out over the 130m drop. The launchmaster (not sure if that is the correct term but let’s go with it) tried to distract us before he pulled the pin. We guessed what he was up to but it still caught us by surprise when he released the bolt and we went falling into the abyss….

We fell for what at the time felt like an eternity, but then the swing caught us and we sailed in a graceful arc over the rushing river below, and then up the other side. We were laughing and shouting like maniacs as the adrenaline surged through us. It was an absolute rush and we were both very proud of ourselves for having done it. As we got cranked back up to the platform, the launchmaster pretended to let us go again. For some reason that was petrifying – even though we’d just done it and survived, the thought of doing it again did not appeal, and Hoff did not see the funny side of the joke! As we made our way back to town on the bus, we were coming down off a high of a mix of powerful endorphins and decided we needed some lunch to get some sugar in us, so we headed back to the camp to grab a bite to eat.

After lunch we went back into town and hired a couple of bikes, which we then cycled around the Queenstown inlet to the golf course on the other side. Although it was only a couple of hundred metres across the entrance of the bay, it took us 16km to get all the way around. It was a beautiful day and we stopped off at the end to enjoy the sunshine and take a few photos, then on the way back we dropped in at a local craft brewery to enjoy a well earned drink. We headed back to the campsite and had a quick shower, and then it was back into town to sample another Queenstown favourite, the world famous Fergburger. Hoff had raved about them since her last visit and indeed, many friends had told us that “if you do one thing in Queenstown, make sure it is to eat a Fergburger”. I was therefore expecting big things and I was not disappointed. I went for the fully loaded burger and Hoff settled on her previous favourite, the CockodoodleOink (no prizes for guessing whats in that one). We took them down to the harbour front and sat on the grass to eat them, and were entertained by a couple of buskers. The sun also gave us a beautiful sunset and we wandered down the harborside in an effort to digest. It was a perfect way to end a very busy day, and a great way for me to refuel for my mountain biking the next day, which I will tell you about next time.

Alex left you after he had just jumped out of a plane. Whaaaaat!!!! Madness. Actually I had been there and done that so really he was just catching up with me but we wont dwell on that…

We headed towards the west coast stopping at Greymouth for a food shop and a wander around the visitor centre. Other than that there wasn’t much to see. The coastline was amazing. We made a few stops for some mandatory selfies and retired for the night at a small campsite. It was really a restaurant with a big patch of green space that the owners now called a campsite. We were going to have a glass of wine in the bar but it was about 3 times the price of the bottle we had in the car so it was back to the wine in thermos mugs. Those Walmart mugs are doing us so proud. The issue with the campsite and, actually, the coast in general, is the sandflies. They are horrendous. They’re smaller than mosquitoes yet seem deadlier. They manage to get to even the smallest amount of skin on show, which was always my ankles. The itchiness was out of this world and my ankles turned into a mess. So we were pretty horrified by the amount of these rank little creatures at this particular campsite. The inside of the outer tent layer was black with them. To get into our tent one of us had to hold a torch away from the tent to lure the flies away whilst the other jumped in. Then the person in the tent had to be ready to open the zip in a split second whilst person 2 jumped in. Chaos. Is this what we signed up for all those months ago when booking our flight on insect free Northcote road?! Certainly not. But I suppose it makes the blogs a bit more interesting….!

The next morning we fled the campsite at early doors and stopped to have breakfast at a picnic bench next to the sea. Not a bad little spot! We did a couple of short walks and ended up at pancake rocks where the rocks, funnily enough, look like pancakes all stacked up. It said it was a good place to spot Hector’s dolphins but alas, Hector wasn’t playing ball today and the dolphins didn’t turn up. We pressed along the coast and arrived at the town of Franz Josef, home to the Franz Josef glacier. After a quick lap around a potential campground we moved onto the next one and set up camp.

We had booked to go kayaking the next day and the weather the following morning was amazing. Clear skies which, in a place that has over 200 days of rain every year, we felt very lucky about. The lake we kayaked on was like a mill pond and the reflection of Mt Cook in the water was spectacular. In the afternoon we walked to a view point of the glacier. I visited the glacier in 2012 and back then we did a tour which included walking on the ice. The amount it had retreated in 8 years was shocking. Now the only tours are heli-walking tours. We questioned the logic of flying helicopters and adding to the carbon emissions over somewhere that is rapidly depleting. It also meant that every 10-15 minutes from before 8am until after 6pm, helicopters were flying over the town, which made it very noisy. That night we went to the thermal pools in town. Over the last 6 months we have been lucky to have tried a few thermal pools over the world. These ones were nice but it seemed the water wasn’t naturally hot so really it was just small swimming pools. It was relaxing all the same.

Our first stop the next morning was to Lake Matheson. It’s surrounded by a 5km path so we decided to run it rather than walk to get our steps and exercise in for the day. However, Kitty (our car) had other ideas. As we were driving up a hill just before Fox Glacier, the town near the lake, she suddenly lost all power. Even with pedal to the floor we crawled along. Oh dear. We called the car company and it was decided we would drive to the local garage in Fox Glacier as it was only 5 minutes from the lake. After a quick run we went to the garage. It turned out there were a few things wrong with Kitty and we were not going to be going anywhere that night. We checked into an en-suite room courtesy of the car company and waited. Kitty was going to take 2 days to fix and so the next day another car would be driven to us.

The day we didn’t have a hire car and of course it rained all day. We walked back to lake matheson again and sat in the coffee shop for ages. A gap in the rain came and we headed back to town. The gap didn’t last long and soon we were stopping to get the waterproof trousers on. A nice van driver offered us a lift so we jumped in the van and sat on some pallets he had. A little adventure. We then sat in Kitty awaiting our new hire car. After an emotional farewell and hurling bags into the new wagon trying to stop them getting wet, we waved goodbye to Kitty and set off in a Toyota, which we christened Tabitha. Tabitha wasn’t the same. We had no access to the boot from the main bit of the car which was actually really annoying. But she moved which was progress.

We headed off in the heaving rain along roads that I’m sure had great scenery but we couldn’t see a thing. We stayed the night in a little hut which was fun but had mouse traps so we were slightly more aware of where we stepped. It didn’t stop raining all night but the next day we were going to be heading to Queenstown where we hoped for sunnier weather. Alex will take you on the next leg of our trip where he had a very surprising catch up with someone…

When Hoff left you, we had just arrived at the campsite in Abel Tasman National Park. Situated right at the top of the South Island, it’s a beautiful forest, almost tropical in nature, which leads right down to the waters edge, where turquoise seas lap against bright white sandy beaches. If you’d gone to sleep in England and woken up here, you’d be forgiven for thinking you were in the Caribbean.

On our first night, we decided to have a wander around the local town, swigging wine from our travel mugs. Classy, I know! More of a hamlet in size, we found a few b and bs, two kayak hire places, and a burger van. The burgers looked tidy so we resolved to come back the next evening. Back at the campsite we whipped up a quick meal of pesto pasta and ate it before running back to our tent through the rain. It then proceeded to bucket it down for most of the night. The following morning it looked a little better so we decided to head off for a trail run along the Abel Tasman coastal path. We weren’t going to have much opportunity to walk in the park given our itinerary, so we figured a run would be a good way to see as much as we could.

We set out sights on Anchorage Bay around 13km away. It was a beautiful path right along the coast and we weaved in and out of the trees, eventually running down the long hill to the beach in the bay. There we scoffed down some bars and a load of fizzy worms – our new favourite running energy sweets – before tipping the sand from our shoes and setting off back to the campsite. It then started to rain very hard. Before we knew it we were soaked and really not enjoying ourselves. 20km in and I think it is fair to say we were feeling pretty miserable, Hoff running low in energy and getting tired of my efforts to chivvy her along. Eventually, after 26 and a bit km, two very wet, bored and tired runners limped back into the camp. We stumped up the $2 for a shower and began to feel human again. In hindsight, setting out to run over half a marathon off road without any training beforehand had probably been a bad idea, but at least we’d earned our burger. We stopped off at the local bar for a quick happy hour beer then wandered to the burger van, where we tucked into a monster burger with all the accompaniments. Sadly, we were a bit let down by the end result and it wasn’t quite what we had been hoping for, but we wolfed it anyway – we were so hungry after our run that we’d have eaten anything, plus we were getting assaulted by sand flies so wanted to get back to the relative safety of our tent.

We slept pretty well that night and awoke the next day to a cool, crisp, but clear morning. After a hearty porridge breakfast we went to hire our kayak. Our original plan had been to kayak to one of the bays, camp overnight, then come back the next day, but we were still tired from the run and neither of us fancied a sandy night out being eaten by the wildlife, so we settled on a day trip. Suited and booted, we set off along the coastline following the track that we’d run the day before, then turned right and headed out away from the shore to the nearby island. There we saw a few seals lounging around in the sun. It was lovely to be able to see them so closely, as we silently coasted by. We pulled our kayak up onto a small beach around the corner from the seals and had lunch, harassed by a cheeky seagull who was desperate for some tidbits. Then we paddled across to the next island, over the top of some sting rays who flitted under us looking for food on the sandy bottom, and then back to the beach where we started.

We’d only been out for four hours but were pretty knackered after all the paddling, so we loaded our kayak onto the tractors and made our way across the sand back to the campsite. It was quite a walk as the tide had gone out a long way, and we had to wade through a tidal lagoon (Hoff was scared that a shark would come and eat her so she walked around it). The tractors just boshed straight across it, the water almost over their bonnets. Dinner was another big bowl of pesto pasta washed down with some red wine, and we squeezed into our tent – we’d been surrounded by other campers whilst we were out – and settled down for what turned out to be a pretty chilly night. As previously mentioned, the sun in NZ is very strong, but on a clear day, once it goes in, things get pretty cold pretty quickly, and that means it can get a little bit nippy in the tent. We’ve since solved that by sleeping in both our sleeping bags and the duvet, and it makes for a pretty toasty night.

I awoke the next day, my stomach a knot of anticipation and nerves. For today was the day that I was due to to jumping out of a plane. I was determined to do a skydive and had wanted to do one for a long time, and with a cloudless sky and not a breath of wind forecast, the previous day I had taken the plunge and booked it in for 10am today. We packed up and headed off after breakfast, which I surprisingly managed to wolf down despite the nerves. We stopped off at a supermarket beforehand to get some supplies, and looking for the various bits and pieces took my mind off it for a few minutes. However we were soon pulling into the airfield and before I knew it I was waving goodbye to Hoff, zooming down the runway in a tiny little plane, dressed in a boiler suit and sitting almost uncomfortably close to Rod, my skydive instructor. The noise was deafening and the smell of avgas was overwhelming, but it all added to the excitement.

On the climb up to 16000 feet, Rod gave me a commentary on what we could see. We could look all the way back to Abel Tasman National Park on one side and Mount Cook on the other. It was spectacular. Then suddenly the engine throttled back, the door opened and I felt a rush of cold air enter the cabin. The first two jumpers went out, the door closed again, the throttle went forward, and we started the ascent up to our exit altitude. To be honest, I never really felt nervous about the jump at all, but at this point I realised we were basically at the point of no return. I knew the airplane would be making a seriously steep and bumpy return to the airfield as I’d seen it doing it before, and I really didn’t fancy that at all, so figured my best bet was to crack on and just jump. Rod strapped an oxygen mask to my face and shortly after the pilot shouted “30 seconds”. The door slid open again and the jumpers in front of me went out, and before I knew it I was at the door, feet curled back under the ledge, head back staring at the wings, feeling the rush of air buffeting us as we got ready to jump. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rod slam down his visor and I knew this was it…..

And then we were falling. I watched the plane getting smaller and smaller above me as we started hurtling towards earth, before we suddenly flipped around and looked downwards. Hoff had told me that at this stage, when she did her jump a few years ago, her brain really span out and she forgot it all, so I really tried to keep my fears in check and focus on the ride. I was trying so hard to take it all in that I didn’t feel Rod taping me on the shoulder, letting me know it was ok to take my hands off the harness straps and assume the free fall position. It was absolutely amazing – the cold air rushing up your nostrils, the wind buffeting your body, the incredible scenery from so high up – it was just mind blowing. We fell for what seemed like an eternity and then I felt a drop, a catch and then a sharp tug from below, and the next thing I knew we were under the canopy, gliding silently to earth. Rod threw in a couple of steep turns, the g force pushing me out to the sides, and then it was in for a textbook landing. Although I was glad to be back in one piece, I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself and was keen for another go….

Alas, we had places to be and things to see, so we headed back to the car just as Rod came back out of the hangar with his next victim, sorry I mean customer. The cafe next door had run out of bacon butties so I celebrated by wolfing down a chocolate bar and, high on endorphins and sugar, we set off towards Queenstown. Adventure Town here we come!

After a good night’s sleep we had brek and headed off to Wellington, with some pit stops on the way. Alex managed to get his hair cut at last! It was getting nearly as long as mine. We were soon descending into Wellington and we both were craving fish and chips so lunch was the first stop! The shop we chose had a newspaper article saying that the cast members of LOTR, notably Strider, loved this fish and chippy so we felt we had chosen wisely. And we had. It was lush. During the past couple of months we had managed to get a really annoying mark on Alex’s camera sensor so we also decided it was time to fix it. We dropped it off to be cleaned and headed up to Mount Victoria lookout where we could see Wellington and further afield. Although a bit cloudy it was still a good view and Alex enjoyed watching the planes taking off from the nearby airport – such a geek!

We had chosen a campsite just outside of town so that we didn’t have far to come to the ferry in the morning. We made a quick pit stop at a sports shop as my trainers have too many holes in but alas I didn’t find any. My trusty pair will have to keep going. We checked into the enormous campground and sorted our stuff out for the early start the next morning. The ducks seemed to take a liking to us as they kept waddling over to our kit. Alex eventually had enough of them and started chasing them around the camp to leave us alone. An amusing sight for all.

The next morning we left extra early as the previous day the traffic had been very bad on the road to/from the ferry into Wellington. Alas. We didn’t leave early enough as we were stuck in awful traffic. With google maps eta getting nearer to our ferry departure I was having a meltdown worrying that we were going to miss it. I don’t do well when we are late for things. Alex just laughs at me when I get in a panic which makes me even more stressed so it wasn’t the best of starts to the day. Still. We made it. Phew.

The ferry took 3.5 hours across the Cook Strait. It’s a brilliant crossing among peninsulas. Our first stop in the South Island was Abel Tasman National Park and the first road we drove along was Queen Charlotte Drive. Very apt! We passed an older lady who was hitchhiking. We did a u-turn as with a bit of bag shuffling we could fit her in. She didn’t stop talking for the 30 minute journey but she was very interesting. She lived in the north island and was looking at buying a shed in the south. We had absolutely no idea why she was doing that and she didn’t expand on it. After we dropped her off we stopped off for some lunch by the river. We were tempted to jump in but we needed to press on to the campsite. We arrived at the campground at 6pm so after a speedy tent put-up it was time for a glass of red to cheers to the adventures the South Island would bring.

Our alarms went off at 0445 and we rather reluctantly crawled out of our tent and got ready to take on the Tongariro Alpine Crossing. We packed away our tent as quietly as we could, had a hearty breakfast of porridge and crumpets, then made our way to the car park to meet our shuttle bus. This would take us from our car to the starting point, and we’d then walk back to the car. The Tongariro crossing is one of NZ’s most well known walks. Usually done one way, it winds its way up through a volcanic valley, strewn with the debris and detritus of eruptions past and present, before you climb up and across a steep volcano edge, cross an old lava flow, and then plateau underneath the gaze of two recently active volcanoes. We made the top of the crossing in good time, fuelled by Cadbury’s chocolate and marmite muffins, and enjoyed the beautiful views from the top. All around us there were geysers of hot steam erupting from the ground and a sign at the top warned us that we were standing on an active volcano that could erupt at any time. With the recent White Island eruption fresh in our minds we took our photos rather rapidly and then practically ran down the far side, putting our Cotopaxi ash field downhill running experience to good use. We debated telling off a guy who was doing the walk in his flip flops, but decided against it as we had places to be.

Soon we were descending the far side of the plateau and heading towards our pick up. Here we saw signs telling us of another relatively recent – 2012 – eruption. This came from a smaller volcano off to the right hand side of the path. Smaller did not necessarily mean weaker; this eruption had managed to throw a 3 tonne lump of rock hundreds of metres into the air and the impact craters from this and other large rocks were all around us. We even saw the remnants of what used to be the local camping hut. It was basically destroyed in the 2012 eruption and, although it was rebuilt, in 2019 they decided to take it down as it was just too dangerous for people to to stay there. We completed the rest of the walk practically at the double, both out of nervousness but also because our watch batteries were getting low and we didn’t want to lose our gps data. If it isn’t on Strava, then it didn’t happen!

We were therefore glad when we got back to Kitty and swiftly got on our way, heading towards Wellington. Hoff surprised me on the way by mentioning that she would actually ‘like’ to go the the NZ Army museum. I almost crashed the car in surprise but I didn’t want to let an opportunity like this go, so set a course for the museum before she could change her mind. On the way we had to call the police – well, actually we pulled into a police station and then called the emergency number – as a huge truck axle had fallen off a lorry ahead of us and was lying in the middle of the road. As we got through to the operator, a policeman came out and knocked on our window. What was most surprising is that he enquired what we wanted, in a thick Yorkshire accent. We explained the situation and he set off to have a look, leaving Hoff and I confused as to whether we’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in Leeds!

The Army museum, when we got there, was excellent. It gave a full history of the founding of NZ and the interactions between the Maori and the Europeans, NZ’s contributions to the first and second world wars (which were astounding) and then some more background on recent operations. ever since our visit we have kept an eye out for war memorials on our way around the country, and it is humbling to see the sacrifices that were made by such small and rural communities. In some tiny hamlets you drive through you’ll find a memorial to 8-10 men, often fathers or sons or bothers from just two or three families, all whom died in the wars. The impact on these small communities and NZ as a whole must have been huge, and we weren’t surprised to learn that NZ had the highest casualty rate per capita of any country. Although the ties back to the UK are weaker now, back then people flocked to serve King and country, and that meant England, so we as Brits have a lot to be thankful for. The Kiwis, both Maori and European descendants, were known for their cool headedness and fearsomeness in battle, and were often sent it to the hardest battles to break the deadlocks, such as at Monte Cassino, which meant they suffered high casualty rates. It was all very interesting and moving at the same time.

Another positive of our stop at the museum was that it got us out of the rain that hard started just after we finished our walk. It was still spitting when we left so we headed towards the coast hoping that the sea breeze would clear the clouds. This worked slightly but it was drizzling when we pulled up at our campsite. Luckily we found a spot under a tree that kept us pretty dry, and we tucked into a well deserved pizza and garlic bread, thoughts of which had kept us going in our trek earlier in the day. Tomorrow we’d be heading all the way to Wellington, NZ’s capital city and our final stop on this leg of our north island trip before we got the ferry to the South Island. We crawled back into our little tent and were asleep within seconds, dreaming of volcanoes and tanks (well, I was anyway…..).

Next up – Hoff takes you on a journey across to the South Island of NZ

We set off bright and early from our campsite as today was Hobibiton day. My level of excitement was like a 5 year old waking up on Christmas Day! As we got about 5km out the brown tourist signs for the movie set started appearing. I instantly got the phone out to take a picture but was told firmly by Alex to wait until we got there to get a proper photo! On pulling into the car park we were faced with loads of official Hobbiton tour coaches and people everywhere despite it being before 9am. I made Alex take a picture of me below the movie set sign. He took it extremely swiftly-maybe I embarrassed him haha! Check in was quick and we were soon aboard the bus. A tv at the front started playing the famous LOTR soundtrack and the director, Peter Jackson, gave a spiel about the movie set. It was all so exciting.

The set for LOTR was fake but it was then remade using lasting materials when the Hobbit was being made. Your first encounter of the Shire is from the bottom facing up to Bilbo’s house. It’s such an awesome sight. The detail is unbelievable – from a fake oak tree to an apple tree that had all its fruit and leaves taken off and replaced with plums and plum leaves to reflect Tolkien’s books. After wandering around on the tour Alex and I decided that we wanted to move in! It was such a sweet little village. We also got to enjoy a local ale at The Green Dragon which was fun. All too soon the tour was over and we were back on the bus heading back to our car. Whilst not a cheap experience by any means it’s defo worth the money.

We made our way to Rotorua, the town that smells like rotten eggs due to the sulphurous volcanic hot springs that are dotted all around the town. It was supposed to be a brief stop as Alex needed a haircut. Unfortunately it was Monday and all the hair salons were shut so the long hair remained. We got some cash out from the atm and were infuriated that they charged us with no warning. After some quick legal research we were sure we had been diddled so asked to speak to the manager. It sounds pretty silly asking for $7 back but it all adds up when you are on a long trip. The result was that they paid us back the charge, so that was good, and hopefully no one gets diddled in the future.

We stopped off for a quick food shop and then walked around the nearby Blue Lake to stretch our legs. It turned out to be more of a walk in the trees than a walk next to a lake, so we strode out and finished it in quick time. Jumping back in the car, we were soon whizzing past Lake Taupo and onto a campsite near Mt Tongariro, ahead of the 20km hike over the alpine crossing, which goes over active volcanoes, that we had planned for the next day. Live volcanoes were certainly going to speed up our pace! We had decided to skip Taupo and to do it on our way back to Auckland on our return journey. We got to the campsite shortly before nightfall so after a quick dinner it was time for bed as we had an 0445 alarm. Grim. We just hoped the rain would stay away. Over to Alex for the crossing…

We were sad to be leaving our hosts in Keri Keri – as Hoff mentioned, we’d had five days of amazing food, great activities and most importantly, real beds. However, it was time to head south so we loaded Kitty, said our goodbyes, and hit the road once again. We had quite a punchy first stint to get done – almost six hours – to get us down and around the corner from Auckland and into the Cormomandel peninsula. After stopping to pick up some food supplies and more camping equipment – we decided that we couldn’t cook on my tiny little stove for the next six weeks so needed something a bit heftier – we found ourselves on the outskirts of Auckland once again. We’d timed things to perfection and got stuck slap bang in the middle of Friday afternoon rush hour, so we ended up bumper to bumper in gridlock for quite a long time, listening to crappy local talk show radio (Kitty’s radio, along with all the instructions being in Japanese, only goes up to 89.0 on the FM spectrum which is the lower end for most western countries and usually where they stick all their dross). We finally got back out into some clean air when we were long south of Auckland and made it to Cooks Cove, our stop for the night, where we paid through the nose for our campsite (to be fair to them, it was a nice one, but ridiculously expensive nevertheless). However, it had a decent kitchen and a huge fridge freezer (important things for the intrepid car camper) so it suited us perfectly. We cooked up a portion of pre-made chilli, washed it down with some beers, and scoffed a line of chocolate each for pudding, and then retired to our air bed for the night.

After a fairly comfy night on the air bed (it was still to find its groove so was deflating slightly as we slept, which meant we usually woke up bunched together in the hole in the middle) we headed off to Cathedral Cove. A short walk along the coast, it gets its name from the amazing natural arch formation right through the rock that links up two beaches. I can imagine that at sunset, when the beaches are empty and the light glorious, the view would be spectacular. As it was, the beaches were full with selfie taking tourists and it was a bit overcast, so we snapped a few photos and left. Hoff and I have realised that 1) we don’t really like cities and 2) we don’t really like other tourists, so anywhere that is really busy we end up skipping by and looking for quieter places instead. Therefore we ended up at another little cove further back along the track called Stingray Bay. There we found a place on the rocks to have lunch – the tide was in so the beach wasn’t there, hence the lack of people – before we wandered back to Kitty and jumped in the car, aiming for Hot Water Beach.

As the name suggests, HWB is a beach that has a natural hot spring coming out of the sand and right into the sea. It’s only accessible at low tide and we arrived soon after high tide, however we managed to dip our feet in the sand and almost burn our toes off in the scorching, volcanically heated water. It was a weird thing to see and feel, but we decided not to hang around for low tide proper and got back on the road again, this time heading for the Kauaeranga Valley. We’d read about a hike called the Pinncales that was hard to reach and tough to climb, so we hoped that might keep some of the 18-25 crowd away. It’s not that we have anything against them – we were young once – but there’s only so much ‘travelling’ chat you can put up with without wanting to bury yourself in a deep hole or throw them in one. For example, as I write this, another ‘backpacker’ car has just arrived at what we thought was our quiet little campsite off the beaten track. The first occupant has jumped out sporting a top knot, a poncho that was definitely bought for too much money at some dodgy South American market, and a pair of those parachute style trousers you can only buy in south East Asia and were designed solely for clowns and people who are slightly rotund. As if he couldn’t get any more cliche, he then whipped out a guitar and started strumming away. Within thirty seconds Hoff and I had agreed that if they made any noise past the 10pm curfew we’d be round at their campervan telling them to wind their necks in (it’s Hoff’s turn this time; I played bad cop last night to some noisy Italians).

Anyway, back to the Pinnacles. We spent the night in a DOC campsite. The Dept of Conservation does many things in NZ, one of them being the administration of public campsites. It was cheap, nicely located, and too remote for the young noise makers. In other words, it was perfect. We heated up some Spag Bol and got the carbs on board for the hike the next day, and then hit the hay.

The following morning we were up early. No one else had risen and we were planning to be the first on the hill for the 7km climb to the viewpoint. All was going swimmingly until we jumped in the car to drive the 1km or so to the kick off car park. I turned the key and Kitty refused to start. We’d drained the battery the night before changing cameras and phones, but luckily we got a jump start from the Dutch people next to us. They owed us one anyway as we’d kept one of them calm the night before when her two older companions didn’t return in time from their hike, but it set us back a bit so we had some catching up to do. We strode out along the gravel track, which soon turned into quite a steep climb involving large boulders and big step ups. It took quite a toll on our legs but we eventually reached the top and the view was definitely worth it. We could see right up to the sea at the northern end of the peninsula and the panorama was spectacular. We celebrated with a mug of hot tea and some Cadbury’s chocolate, then headed back to Kitty to get on the road again.

We made good time and thankfully Kitty purred like a well fed cat when we started her up, so we got back on the road, Opal Hot Springs bound. We were due to be visiting Hobbiton, the set where they filmed some of the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit films, the next day. Hoff was super keen to see them and I was quite interested too, so we picked the nearest campsite to the tour location and hoped for the best. It turned out to be a gem, with the campsite having its own hot baths. It was a perfect way to relax and soothe our aching muscles from the days exertions. After a lovely dinner, we cracked open a bottle of the wine we had brought over from Argentina. It tasted just as good as if we had been drinking it in the vineyard itself, and we almost polished off the whole bottle in one sitting. We saved ourselves a glass for the next day but had a great nights sleep – the fresh air, hot baths and wonderful wine being a perfect sleep aid. We needed our rest as the next day we were off in search of Hobbits, but I’ll leave Hoff to tell you that story.

We packed up our kit and headed to the hire car which was a 20 minute walk. 2 minutes out I realised we had left our water bottles in the freezer. Nightmare. So Alex picked up the car and I hurried back to the flat and the back to the car hire. We only paid a few dollars a day for the wagon and it certainly showed! Everything was in Japanese and there was no way to change it. So we decided to call her Kitty after Hello Kitty. Kitty has no oomph and pulls to the left but she was going to be ours for nearly 6 weeks so we needed to get along. Our first stop was to get duvet, pillows and a blow up bed. We couldn’t handle just roll mats for 6 weeks so we decided glamping was more our style.

After picking that and the food supplies up we were headed up towards the Bay of Islands. We had a little stop at the beach after I got us lost – again! I can’t be trusted with google maps. We then arrived at Tutukaka and checked in for our diving the following day. The diving was the most expensive I have done in my 90 dives so I was expecting great things! We then decided to try our luck at freedom camping which are little areas for a few tents to pitch – for free! We found a great spot right next to the beach which was amazing. Security guards also pop round which is reassuring. After a meal of cold pre-made risotto we turned in for the night. In the middle of the night the blow up bed was very low on air. The instructions said it would take a few tries before it settled down so we trusted that and hoped there was no hole, re-inflated the mattress and hoped for the best!

The next morning, after waking to an almost fully inflated mattress, we made our way to the dive boat which was very swish. The diving was going to take place at the Poor Knights Islands. On the boat on the way out there I thought I saw a turtle but it turned out to be a sunfish or Mola Mola. We had never seen one of these before so that was a great start. The 2 dives were great and the area felt like something out of Finding Nemo. We swam into a small cave and the amount of fish was crazy. In between and after the dives we did a little tour of the islands, and it was soon time to head back to shore. After deciding we deserved an ice cream we were then on our way to some friends in Kerikeri, which was about 90 minutes away. We were warmly greeted by Kim, one of our hosts, holding a bottle of wine saying he was “getting reinforcements” as they had other friends staying too. We were off to a good start! That evening we had the most delicious steak cooked on the bbq, looking out on the view from the house over a lake and then out to the sea. It was incredible. After dinner we heard a lot of noise in a tree and it turned out to be a possum. I thought they were about the size of a squirrel but they’re more like the size of a big cat. We also had 2 tiny owls above us in the tree so it was a real safari in the garden!

The following day we all boarded Kim and Sally’s yacht, Saskia. They had sailed her over from the UK and had lived on her for years during a previous big trip. It was the perfect sailing day with blue skies and a gentle breeze. We anchored at Roberton Bay and did the short walk up to a view point. We could see for miles and it was turquoise sea, islands and boats. Magical. After a bit of snorkelling it was time for a delicious lunch on board and then we spotted dolphins! You are not allowed to follow dolphins there but if they cross your path when you happen to be sailing then there is not much you can do. It just so happened that the dolphins very much did cross our path as they went under our boat! Amazing! We also encountered tiny penguins bobbing along which I was not expecting so it turned out to be another safari day for us. We sailed around some of the islands on our way home and it was such a great day. We all managed to avoid sunburn but got back to the hours exhausted. Another delicious bbq with lamp and feta cheese, washed down with lots of wine, was an amazing way to end what had been a great day.

The next morning we headed right to the top of the North Island to Cape Reinga, where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean, which is fun to see. We made the error of eating lunch before walking down to the lighthouse so we were surrounded by tour buses that had just pulled in. Still. They left quickly and quiet was restored. We headed back to Kerikeri to stay with friends of Alex’s parents. It was funny how both friends lived in the same town. We had dinner on the balcony overlooking an estuary which was very nice indeed. We also did some satellite spotting as about 60 came over in a line! SpaceX apparently. It meant nothing to me but Alex got very excited by it all.

The next morning, after a run, kayak and quick swim, we got the ferry from Paihia over to Russell and had a bite to eat at a place right on the waterfront. Quite a few boats were moored up and a Tall Ship also came in which was fun. We felt like we had gone back in time. We made our way back to the house and had another great meal on the balcony. The satellites did their fly past again. I was falling asleep on the sofa so missed them this time around. It was definitely bedtime for me!

The following morning we set off to Russell again as we were going to do one of the coastal walks. The sea was turquoise and we kept thinking we must be in the Caribbean as we just didn’t expect to see the sea like that here. At one point the track took us onto the beach and we realised that at low tide you walk on the beach. We hit the track at high tide and so had to take our trainers off and wade waist deep to the other side of the track. This added a bit of adventure to proceedings! We finished the walk around 5.30pm and headed back to the house where spag bol awaited us. It was delicious! We did some meal prep for the following few days as we didn’t know if the places would have kitchens or not. We had such a great few days in Kerikeri staying with wonderful hosts and the prospect of going back into the tent was not hugely appealing. But it was time for us to head further south and look for Hobbits…

As our readers will surely have worked out by now, we typically write these blogs ‘in arrears’; that is, we’re usually a couple of weeks behind/ahead (depending on how you look at things) and writing about what has happened a couple of weeks ago. During my last writing session, I was being serenaded by the sweet ‘thump crack’ of tear gas canisters in Santiago. Oh how things have changed! I’m currently sat in the passenger seat of Kitty, the name that we have given to our bargain Nissan (other brands are available) rental car, swigging incredibly nice Argentinian wine (brought with us of course from South America) from my travel thermos mug (cheaply acquired in the USA). Hoff is sat next to me also drinking wine and deep in planning mode for the next part of our trip. It’s probably worth mentioning that the car is stationary and Hoff is outside to my left on a picnic bench at our campsite (I’m sure you all had visions of Hoff hands off the wheel, reading a map and chugging back Malbec as we cruised through the NZ countryside).

Anyway, back to New Zealand. After 12.5 hours, two awful inflight meals and almost as many Star Wars films as you can handle in one sitting (the force was strong in me by the end), we were in NZ. To say I was excited about this part of the trip was an understatement – people have been telling me for years that I would love the country and Hoff, having been here before, concurred. We weren’t taking any chances through customs and declared everything we possibly could – tents, walking boots, milk powder, the whole shooting match. Like many people I never quite know how to handle customs and immigration officers – do you play the chatty, friendly card and hope they don’t think you’re hiding something, or the uninterested tourist with the ‘I’ve nothing to hide’ look on your face (and in the process end up looking exactly like you have something to hide even though you’ve absolutely nothing to hide at all)? I could never be a drug smuggler – I’d be crap at it. Anyway, luckily we whizzed through and were soon on the bus to Auckland. We were too early to check in at our BnB so we dropped our bags off and walked into town, where we found a sports bar doing a full fatboys breakfast. It was the breakfast that dreams are made of and had everything from proper bacon to baked beans. We devoured it in seconds. We’d been hankering for baked beans for months and the moment the sweet tomato sauce-covered goodness hit our lips we were in heaven. I was in love with NZ already!

We knew we had to stay awake for as long as possible – our bodies thought it was late afternoon the previous day so we just needed to push through to the NZ evening and then get a good night of sleep to hopefully reset our body clocks. To keep us awake we joined a free walking tour – standard for us – and toured the main sights of the city. I was basically a walking zombie by the end and Hoff was getting close to going full Zombieland on me, given how much I was complaining about falling asleep whilst standing up, but I gallantly fought through and we celebrated with sushi for lunch. That afternoon we checked in to our BnB and succumbed to sleep, catching a few hours of shut eye before we did our first NZ shop. We were quite surprised at how expensive everything was, although I wasn’t sure if that was just because we were used to South American prices. We did however pick up a box of local beers so we washed down our supermarket curry (not bad actually) with Auckland-brewed lager and retired to bed to get some well needed sleep.

Thursday dawned and we were up early – Hoff informing me that she’d been awake for hours already by the time I’d woken up around 6am (I think she was looking for a medal…). Today was Waitangi Day in NZ, the day that the Maoris and the British signed their land and rule of law sharing agreement back in the 1800s. We decided to walk the 5km to the next bay where we had read there was going to be a celebratory festival in a park. On the way we dodged roller skating, running, cycling and scootering Kiwis, and marvelled at all the yachts heading out for a bank holiday sail. At the festival we grabbed a coffee and watched the local Maori tribe conducting a welcome ceremony for the visiting dignitaries. It was quite a poignant moment and both of us had goosebumps as we watched the warriors postulate and chant in front of the crowd. It was all meant to signify the welcome that their Maori ancestors had previously given the British and it was actually quite moving. We also learnt about the issues that the locals had faced with Crown government land grabs as well as getting our blood pressure checked – they were running a free health clinic so we thought we might as well get involved.

After walking back to the city we hopped on a ferry over to Devonport, the village across the bay from Auckland. There we wandered down the coast to the naval museum, which was actually ‘pretty interesting’ (Hoff’s words, not mine). It was a trip back through time and we learnt about how New Zealand had supported the British First and Second World War efforts, and the modern face of the NZ Navy. Devonport ended up being a bit boring (less the museum) so we got the ferry back across the Bay and went back to our apartment to cook dinner. We were still a bit jaded after the flight however popped out later on to see the lights on Auckland bridge, which turned out to be a bit crap, so very sleepy and full from dinner we pootled home and hit the sack to regenerate our energy ahead of tomorrow’s planned trek.

We were up bright and early again the next day, and fuelled by a breakfast of beans on toast (mmmmm, beans……….) we jumped on the early ferry to Rangitoto, a dormant volcano on an island at the far end of the Auckland bay. There we hiked up to the crater and enjoyed the amazing views back over to the city as well as out to sea. I was quickly realising that New Zealand is land of breathtaking scenery and every day was presenting us with something new and exciting to look at. We ate our lunch whilst waiting for the ferry, avoiding huge sea gulls who were looking longingly at our egg mayonnaise sandwiches, and listening to a teacher chat to her students (they’d clearly just spent the night camping in the island). The teacher asked all her students to pick up a rock, a leaf and a stick. She then asked each of them in turn to say something to the group about their time on the island – something that had ‘rock’ed, something they’d ‘leaf’ behind, and something that would ‘stick’ with them. I thought it was a bit cheesy but fun nonetheless, so Hoff and I did the same with our trip so far.

For me, what ‘rocked’ was our time in Patagonia, what ‘stuck’ with me was the realisation that we really didn’t need very much to be happy (you can’t have much when you’re living out of a backpack) and what I had left behind in South America was perhaps a little of the impatience that I sometimes felt when things didn’t happen on time or in the way I wanted them to – it’s hard to be impatient when dealing with ‘Bolivia time’, i.e. things happening whenever the people they are dependent on, feeling like they can be bothered to do them, as opposed to sticking to some kind of prescribed schedule. It was a fun way to pass the time waiting for the boat to arrive and also interesting to see what we each had taken away from our time in the Americas.

A quick ferry ride later and we were wandering into the marina area of Auckland. Being ‘boaties’ ourselves, it was fun to see all the yachts moored up, and we got a table at a bar overlooking the marina and decided to treat ourselves to a drink as a well done for the morning’s walk. As we were sipping our wine, a man invited us to join him on his table so that we could see more of the boats. As we sat down, he asked us what we were drinking, and proceeded to go to the bar and buy us a whole bottle of wine. He was from Auckland and on a long around the world trip with his wife, and wanted us to have a good time in the city. He was over the moon when he found out we were on an extended honeymoon ourselves, and almost as happy as we were with a free bottle of wine. He left with us promising to pass on the favour, and indeed we shared the love pretty quickly as we spotted a nearby couple who were clearly on a first date and decided to speed up the romance by giving them a free glass of wine (plus we were also struggling to see away the whole bottle and needed some help). Anyway, to whomever the phantom wine buyer was (we never got his name), thank you and rest assured we will pass on the favour properly before we leave NZ.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around the fish market near the marina and sampling a local fish burger, before we went out for an amazing Thai meal at a nearby restaurant (Hoff proclaimed that it might possibly have been the best Chicken Massaman she’d ever had, which is strong praise indeed). We waddled back to our BnB and packed up all our kit in preparation for picking up our hire car the next day. Our next stop was Tutukaka and the Poor Knights Islands for a spot of cold water diving, but I’ll hand the baton back to Hoff to take you through our first NZ dive experience.

We’ve just realised that we’ve now almost been on the road for five months. It’s gone so fast and we’ve seen so much, and we’re looking forward to NZ, but we’ve still got a last fling to have in South America before we swap continents and head for Australasia.

On our first night in Santiago, after Alex’s escapades with the hire car and his run in with the modern day Dandy Highwayman (if you’re old enough, you’ll get the reference), we cooked spag Bol and sat outside in the little courtyard of the hostel. We decided to play a game of Ludo but after a few minutes our noses and eyes began to itch and there was a funny smell. Tear gas! We headed inside and the hostel staff shut all of the doors and windows. The riots were happening on our street and the adjacent one. We saw people waving bottles and everyone wearing gas masks. It was quite a scene. Alex went out with his camera to have a look and learnt that the riots happen daily from 1600-2200 and always in the street next to the hostel. Great! A few guests came in running in with tears streaming down their faces and one guy even had a cut foot. Before heading to Chile we had thought that the riots had stopped so we were slightly surprised by the current events. The big relief was that our Ludo game was magnetic so no one lost any moves. Phew! We also picked up 3 more players when we moved inside and it turned out to be quite a competitive game.

The next morning, as always, we joined a free walking tour. There were only 4 in our group. It was an excellent tour and we learnt a lot about Santiago and, of course, the riots. We passed a few people shouting at the cops as we walked through the town and you could feel the tense atmosphere. That afternoon we walked to collect Alex’s backpack that had finally been mended and grabbed a cab back to the hostel to be in before 1600. There were loads of rioters around and you could hear the tear gas canisters going off. It all felt very surreal. We packed our stuff up as the next day we were heading to Mendoza in Argentina for 4 days to see my brother Nick, sister-in-law Simone and niece Gabriela. We were so excited as they would be the first family we would have seen since leaving the UK on the 3rd September 2019!

After an early start to put our bags in storage and get a taxi to the airport, we were soon checked in and on our way. We picked up our hire car and headed to the supermarket to get up some supplies for the weekend. On arriving at the supermarket we realised that Alex had left his passport and driving licence at the hire car office. Nightmare. Luckily we were going back to pick up the others anyway so could collect it. We dropped everything off at the Airbnb, which had a lovely swimming pool and views of the mountains. We checked their flight and it was delayed so we didn’t rush back to the airport. We wanted to make sure we were there when they came through arrivals to surprise them. We failed. Google was wrong and their flight landed early!! Still. It was great to see everyone. A passport and licence retrieval later and we were headed back to the Airbnb. Gabriela is 18 months old and she educated me on the song ‘Baby Shark’. I wasn’t aware of this song but by the end of the weekend I was singing it in the shower, first thing when I woke up, everywhere!! That first evening we jumped in the pool, had some fizz and then our Airbnb hosts cooked us an epic Parilla (bbq). The steak was incred. We all went to bed full of food and wine.

The next morning we had an early start and were all feeling a bit jaded. Nick had organised our trip and today we were doing two wine wine tastings and tours followed by a 5 course lunch with wine pairings. To say this was a massive leap from the standard of our days in the previous 5 months is a huge understatement! Everything was amazing. That afternoon we headed back to the house and had a swim before Nick, Alex and I went off to a surprise activity that Nick had organised. We pulled into a field and there was a hot air balloon!! Nick and I were both a bit nervous but as soon as the balloon got going it was one of the best things I have ever done. It was so calm and peaceful. And not an ounce of turbulence! The pilot navigated us so we were skimming vineyards one moment and then high above trees the next. All 3 of us couldn’t stop grinning for the whole flight. On arrival the pilot told us to hold on and bend our knees as it could be a bumpy landing. We landed in a field and I thought Nick was going to fall out as the basket did a bit of a bounce, which was fun. We ended with a glass of fizz which our pilot told us was a ballooning tradition. What a fantastic evening.

Another early start for us the next day with another 2 tastings and this time a 7 course lunch with pairings. At the second vineyard the tour guide said that Mendoza has a special allowance to let people take 6 bottles of wine in their carry on so we stocked up and hoped we wouldn’t be necking it at security the following day! Lunch was superb. I couldn’t keep up with the pairings so found myself triple parked! Alex seemed to be enjoying himself too much as he knocked a glass of red wine all over Simone’s dress, but she also seemed to be enjoying herself too as she didn’t seem to care at all! That afternoon we relaxed by the pool as was about 36 degrees and had a chilled evening. Our check in for our New Zealand flight opened at 0040 so we stayed up to try and secure seats. We were stuck at the back with no option to change seats. As a nervous flyer I really hate being at the back as there is usually so much more turbulence. We hoped we could try and change them in the morning.

Sunday morning came around too quickly and the plan was for Alex and I to drop the others off and we would then head into Mendoza town as our flight was much later. We called England to try and change the seats and hopefully it worked but their were issues with the airline website. We got to the airport, and saying bye to family is always dreadful and I cried for ages! What a mess. We had had such a great trip and we knew we would have another 5 months before we saw family again so it made me very homesick. Still. We had lots of excitement to look forward to so no point feeling down. We wandered around the local town and had a pizza for lunch, then headed back to the airport. We dropped the car off and made it through security with the bottles no questions asked. Phew! A short flight and a taxi ride later (the latter including us having to dodge a fire on the road that had been lit by protestors) and we were at the hostel. We tried to sort our flight out again but it was still not working. So frustrating.

On our last day in Santiago we wanted to keep busy as we always feel weird before long flights. We walked up a big hill to see the views of the town and then did some shopping before having the local dish of what is essentially hot dogs! It tasted good! Riot time approached and so we made our way back to the hostel to chat to family and I caught up on my written diary for the first time since leaving England! The tear gas was awful and Alex was pouring with tears at one point as he had ignored my requests to not sit outside. ‘Told you so’ sprang to mind. The hostel was really nice and allowed us to use the kitchen and have a shower etc. We headed to airport for 2140 so 3 hours before our flight was due to leave so check in had just opened. It turned out that our seats hadn’t been changed and whilst we could move 20 rows forward we would be sitting behind one another. We took a gamble that someone would swap with us. A final Pisco sour in the airport and we boarded the flight. We couldn’t swap due to others being families but it was fine as we wanted to try and sleep anyway. After a couple of glasses of wine we both fell asleep, and 12.5 hours later we landed safely in Auckland, New Zealand, to start the next leg of our trip…..