June 11, Day 1
I met Junglee (henceforth called J owing to my indolence) at the international terminal in Los Angeles, and the first thing I noticed was this fabulous Canon Rebel Digital SLR that hung from his shoulder. Little did I know that it was his Horcrux.
The trip started off in a perfect milieu on the flight to Auckland. Qantas' Video-On-Demand has a delightful range of choices of movies and television programs. J and I agreed that women and wine are a good omen to start any endeavor, and hence we watched the French feminity of Audrey Tautou enrich the taste of Australian Shiraz. Two half-bottles (each) and two movies later, we arrived in Auckland (having lost one entire day due to the date-line crossing) in the wee hours of the morning of the 13th. We dutifully did the duty-free shopping for the stuff. I always get a grumpy immigration official, always. I got past him to find that NZ is a country run by tourism, its lifeline. Travel brochures, maps, postcards all stare at you with a million teeming eyes just as you exit the baggage claims area. Just like the slots at McCarran. J's parents arrived to pick us up. I bonded with them instantly. The drive to their house was pretty - its in a western suburb of Auckland called Avondale. And as the day broke over the marshes behind their house, we had a breakfast of dosa, sambar and filter coffee. It was a brilliant start to the day. Krishna spent most of his morning wrestling with his hazel-eyed sister Alka. Thats apparently his way of saying hi to a younger sibling when they meet after a long time. We then headed out for a small walk, with J showing the first signs of his OCD with his soul-mate. With his camera, I mean. Determined to fight jet lag, we discussed how we were gonna go about the rest of the trip. We poured over tons of maps. And after much deliberation and discussion, we decided that "We'll take it on the go". Super. And clever. So characteristic of hostel-breds. We headed off to Mount Eden where a panoramic view of Auckland awaited us. I noticed the similarities between Auckland and SF - especially the quaint, sloping streets with cafes nestled in every corner. I told myself that I ought to visit Auckland at leisure when I come back from Christchurch on the 25th before boarding my flight back. A quick drive by Auckland's pretty downtown was all that we could manage before we picked up our camper van, our own La Poderosa. I did a quick test drive. I learnt the most important facet of driving here: "Give Way". To the vehicle coming from the right, that is. Mohit (M) arrived from Sydney in the evening. Dinner conversations concluded the day pleasantly. Ah I forgot to mention, J's dad bought us a lot of grocery to use on the road trip.
June 14,Day 2
Day 2 (Map courtesy: Google Maps)Fortunately, we woke up early. A few decisions needed to be made. We had to plan around the constraint that we needed to be in Christchurch by the morning of 20th when J's family wouldl join us for the rest of the trip. Do we head south east to the Bay of plenty and the Coromandel coast? The idea of roaming about in the beaches with the freezing Pacific waters did not seem an attractive proposition. Also, it didn't seem like there was much to do on the east coast anyways, except for the beaches. We decided to head south, inland. M took the wheel first since he was the most experienced driver among all of us. We were out of Auckland pretty soon and the NZ countryside presented itself in a resplendent green. It was a utpoian medley of lush meadows, sheep and small medieval-looking houses that came up once in a while. I was already telling myself that Peter Jackson wasn't wrong when he said he saw Middle Earth unfold around him as he zipped along in a train from Wellington to Auckland. All this in the first hour. Imagine! We discovered that the radio and the van speakers were hardly any good. Also that our music tastes were vastly different. And we had very conveniently forgotten our CDs back home. Uh Oh. Music can help drown unpleasant silences during a long drive. It can be a useful replacement for a rapidly degenerating conversation. And it can keep the driver awake, and prevent accidents. We were all in ready agreement that we had to resolve this situation as soon as possible. Our first pit stop was in Hamilton, a pretty big city in the Waikato plains. We picked up lunch to silence our grumbling stomachs at you-know-where. Subway. Subway is like god - omnipresent, and mostly nice. We drove past Seddon Park to help me increase my "cricket-stadium" count. Its an odd obsession of mine, to visit as many cricket stadia as possible. After noticing that Hamilton has an unusually large number of cafe's and nothing much to offer during the day, we continued south to our first major destination, Waitomo, that transalates to "Water-holes" in Maori. It is a hilly region that has an intricate network of caves in its subterranean landscape. We went to the Ruakuri cave first, that had a spiralling descent of about 200 feet down a tube to the cave entrance that was dimly and tastefully lit. We passed through numerous stalactites and stalagmites, interesting rock formations with the sounds of an underground waterfall giving us company .There was this particularly beautiful fossil of an sea-shell amidst the moist stalactites that surrounded it like a shelter. We were told stories of how the Maori buried their dead in these caves and how these caves still remain extremely sacred to them. And how all these caves are owned by a farming family that fought the government in a lawsuit that determined their ownership to these caves that lay beneath their house. :)
Next, we made our way to the world famous Glowworm caves. After a short walk into a giant underground cave our guide led us to a dark opening where I could see the silhouette of a boat. He reminded us that photography was prohibited and that our being silent would help add to the surreal effect when we were on the boat. And guess what? Just as he finished saying that, J coughed out loudly as if to show that he's the quintessential rebel, the rule-breaker. Everyone in the group gave him a cold stare. We set sail through the dark caves, listening to nothing but that odd drop of water falling from some unseen crevice into the river. Even as my eyes were getting used to the blackness, the cave ceiling suddenly lit up in a pleasant tinge of green. There was enough light to see the guide navigating the boat in the front and the pretty Mexican girl's face sitting beside me. Thousands of glowworms (80000 i was later told), larvae that fluoresce after digesting a hearty meal of insects, painted a beautiful portrait above us. They would have made a one Mr.Dali very proud. Minutes later, we drifted out into a huge cave opening to see sunlight. Our guide told us that there was one last thing we ought to see before we exited the boat. He made us turn around to what looked like an ancient relic on the side of the cave opening, only to reveal later that it was a camera that takes pictures that tourists could buy later from the operator's shop. Good sense of humor, that. Unfortunately, daylight deteriorated pretty soon. We hung out in Waitomo, and then after some map-reading decided to drive to Rotorua to camp for the night. And as my entry for the night summed it up "Drive to Rotorua. Camp. Scotch. Floyd. Crash."
