I wish I could go into length about the town’s charms, plus a few wacky stories about the out-there locals, but this wasn’t that kind of trip. We relaxed in a beach bungalow, walked along the beach when it wasn’t too cold, and snapped heaps of photos (of which I’m quite proud of). Here are a few peeks at what we saw…

By the way, Angela had the quote of the trip in regards to ever-present yet distant surfers: “Looks like the sea ants are still at it.”

Yes, I only uploaded the most extreme photos. It’s really not that bad, and most of NZ doesn’t seem to be freaking out at all. Honestly, it’s just a perfect excuse to stay indoors and catch up on internetting.

Downtown Wellington nestled in the hills as seen from around the bay.

Angela had to take a trip to Wellington recently for some work meetings and I got to tag along (not to the meetings this time, “take your boyfriend to work day” isn’t until November). It’s really quite a nice city with a really good music and arts scene. We caught the Wellington Heads on our first night. They ripped through some great swing tunes as we fumbled miserably at the pool table. Lo, the pool hustler career has never been farther out of my reach.

All weekend, unlike the usual Welly weather, the sky was clear and the time was right for riding around inside a crocodile bicycle.

Angela’s boss Simone, her husband Murray, and our 4-seater bicycle of reptilian terror.

One of the many sculptures nestled in every corner of the town.

Some of the local kids hiding in the structural art exploring how to be edgy.

On the second night in town, Raga (one of Angela’s co-workers who lives here) and her family whipped-up a massive and amazing Indian feast. We all ate enough food to feed normal people for a month. And since it was a themed party (Indian hosts, Indian food) Angela got the chance to take part by trying on a sari and testing its maneuverability in dance.

Pure elegance as I artistically blur the photo on purpose. Or something like that.

And for a limited time (because she’ll probably freak out that I posted it), here’s Angela after falling for the old “roll this magic coin across your face and never mind that it’s covered in pencil” trick. Sorry babe, I think the shot looks great.

Emergency declared as torrential rain floods north

Auckland transport

Auckland police this evening declared the Harbour Bridge unsafe for motorcycles after they attended two incidents in ten minutes where riders had been blown off their bikes.

One motorist this afternoon described seeing waves crashing onto the breakwater on the northern side of the bridge and spraying the motorway.

Auckland’s regional transport authority Maxx said all Waiheke and Half Moon Bay ferries had been cancelled.

Pine Harbour ferries have also been cancelled and will be replaced by bus or taxi.

Maxx said ferry sailings from Auckland to Birkenhead were travelling directly to Northcote, from where passengers could continue their journeys by bus.

All train services from Britomart were suspended at 6.15pm after trees fell across tracks at Parnell on the Southern Line and near Sylvia Park on the Eastern Line.

Luckily our house is up on a hill, and we both work on the 3rd floors of our respective offices. But the fact that the Harbor Bridge might close is just crazy.

Despite being delayed for 2 hours, it turned into quite the classic sea voyage. The stately ship had three movie theatres (If you were inclined to see “Wild” with the kiddies), several outdoor viewing decks (We stayed in front, a la Kate and Leo), a restaurant (The hot dogs were lovely), and a full bar (Mmm, beer).

Here’s Angela as the ship’s classy hood ornament.

The total ride lasted 3 hours with 2 being over open seas and the final hour spent navigating through the straights of the Marlborough Sound towards Picton. It felt exactly like when we looked for places to dock with the houseboat on Lake Cumberland, but bigger. We disembarked at Picton, got our campsite, and wandered through the already closed town. Not a lot going on here, except for the shady Mickey Mouse statue. That’s Angela in the background, swinging for her life.

Before we left the Martinborough camp, we had some free time to spend chatting with the distinguished older members of the International Campervan Society – A group of people who own their own campervans and organize group trips to different regions of New Zealand and beyond. They loved us. Though we probably have another 40 years before we’d feel comfortable joining their club, it’s good to know they’re there for us.

Wellington – The nation’s capital. Not a lovely place. And parking costs $4 an hour! There is a cool walking street called Cuba Street lined with cafés, restaurants, clothing stores, and an anarchist bookstore. The typical dour, black-clad punk youth of New Zealand mope through the area. But hey man, you know, whatever. After being in the nature for so long, we’ve lost the taste for tight sidewalks and cars coming out of nowhere. The city doesn’t appeal to us at all. So instead, we go see Fast Food Nation (rant against delayed movie releases in another entry). Two hours later and grossed out by how old Bruce Willis looks, we choose to ditch the city and drive around the coastline. Wellington is on the inside of a bay, much like Oakland. This gives you ample coastline to follow with changing tides, jutting rocks, sandy shores and amazingly designed beach cottages. We stayed on the road for about an hour and killed another 30 minutes watching some brave surfers challenge both the rocks and the ice-cold water. You gotta really love the sport to do it in this weather, wetsuit or not.

Don’t let the photo fool you. It’s cooooold.

Last stop for the night: Brooklyn, New Zealand. It’s a suburb of Wellington, but probably only as big as Prospect Park, being generous.

The next vineyard also happens to be renowned for its lunches, so that was the plan. The meal was paired with wine, but the food totally overshadowed the drinks. Angela had a venison burger, and I karate-chopped my mouth with filet. Buzzed and stuffed, we dragged ourselves against the wind (we always seem to be going against the wind) back to the van.

Although I’ve been on several wine tasting trips to date, I still don’t get the whole process. The wine is always more expensive at the wineries, they only pour you sips, and they still have the gall to offer you a bucket to spit it out.

Here’s our new vow: if it’s warm somewhere, stay there. As we drive off, we leave the sun behind and speed right under darkness and rain. Angela’s not happy. I’m always happy, so that doesn’t count. But it still sucks. Fortunately, we’re somewhat accurate in our prediction that wine country is sunny, and the clouds break as we pull into the town. We’re starting to hit the smaller areas of NZ, with Martinborough only having a population of about 1,200. There are vineyards on almost every block and a few shops in town showcasing all of the region’s goods. After taking in the scene and some brie, we get settled at the night’s camp and make plans to “hit the vines.” But we’re too late, as all are closed after 5pm.

What’s the only place still open? The microbrewery! Fine by us. We try samplers of all the options and hunker down for pints of the ale, wheat, and dark. The place is packed. This is where all the locals go after they’re done pouring wine flights for the tourists. As one of the vintners said, “Sometimes you need to quench the thirst more than you need to awaken the palette.” We couldn’t agree more.

Final note for the day: Mad props to Siam Kitchen, the Thai takeaway of Martinborough that dropped the hammer with the best Thai food we’ve ever had. Heads and shoulders above the French Bistro, which was too busy to seat us. Flavor: 1. Pretension: 0.

*For the record, the last trip down the extreme course of the Esopus left five of six riders bleeding.
**Better known as “Mount Doom” from the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Orakei Korako / Hidden Valley – On the way to Taupo, a massive lake in the center of the North Island, there’s a great area with geysers, terraces, caves, and mud pools overtaking a mountain. You have to ride a boat across a river to get to the start of the trail. Since it’s off the main tourist route, it’s very secluded. As the hot mineral water spouts out of the hill, it rolls into the river leaving a solid mineral crystal waterfall, river and lake. The unstable ground also caused a large cave to form that you can walk down into. The water at the bottom was toasty warm, but it was so still and clear it was really hard to tell where it began (just ask our boots).

Taupo Campgrounds – Sunshine, heated pools and a perfect sunset. Enough said.