Jack's last week in NZ reviewed

Click pics for the big picure

After boarding the plane from Christchurch with only Don & Margaret at my side I wondered what would lie ahead on my final week in NZ.

It started with a long drive from Wellington to Taumarunui in which we stopped for lunch at the infamous ‘more than you can eat’ Chinese restaurant, which to my disappointment altered my ego by once again leaving with leftovers. 

It was easy going in the Dawson household once half the people had departed home for Australia, and there was more of Margaret’s lovely, and sought after cooking to go around. To mine & granddads delight!

It was time for round 2 at Whangamomana, and granddad & myself were not about to let this ‘hidden tunnel’ go undiscovered a second time. As we checked, doubled checked and even triple checked we had the map, gear and of course compass it was time to tackle the tunnel! We arrived in the morning, full of confidence and enthusiasm as it took us little time (and back tracking) to locate this tunnel. But to our dismay the problem was not locating the tunnel, but now was about locating the car! After a long ( 6hr ) trek through the harsh and unforgiving NZ bush land we stumbled along a track that seemed almost too good to be true! Could this be the correct track we questioned? It wasn’t! As we saw in the not to far distance; the bottom of the road in which the hill started, and the car was at the top! I’ll cut this story short with the journeying ending in 2 dehydrated explorers, a lost wallet (later collected from the pub), 3L of sprite + coke, photographic proof of the tunnel, and NO nachos.

As my mother questioned my work-safety ethics, I ended up without the job that was to fund the second part of my NZ holiday. Instead after much consideration by granddad and myself it was decided that if painting a roof was too dangerous then we would have to climb Ruapehu. As having lived in Australia my whole life I zero knowledge about A- Snow and B- Mountains. Which only added the already low list of dangers that already existed with climbing a mountain. Although I could ‘see’ the mountain from the kitchen, I must admit I was surprised to find that it was very much different ‘up’ the mountain than from the kitchen window. We started our journey from the chairlift, which to granddads shock was run by his fellow what he likes to call ‘Taumarunui locals’, which may I add is only accessible by birth in Taumarunui, or by 48yrs of living in Taumarunui.  The wind was chilly, and the snow slippery as we joked about how much Ben would have enjoyed the view! But care was taken not slip as granddad although not admitting it was wary about my mother having his ass with this little stunt. Along the walk we met an Israeli who was quickly on our tail. He had been traveling the world and was in NZ for 2 months. We welcomed our new friend to a lovely trek to the ‘almost summit’ (which by far was good enough for me). After proving his worthiness we invited our Israeli friend bask with us amongst magrets cooking & care. The next morning he was supposed to leave after breakfast, but we both knew that he couldn’t bring himself to leave until after lunch.

After Mowing granddad & Margrets bitch of a sloping lawn the next day came into contemplation. The kayak to the stone carvings on lake Taupo.

The day started with an early start followed by the meeting the married couple, Shirley and her husband Hugh, who were joining us on our kayaking trip to lake Taupo. 

The weather couldn’t have been better, with the glassy, clear water, and the deep blue sky. The sun created enough heat to keep warm but not hot, and every other person seemed to be thinking exactly the same as us! As the lake soon turned into a motorboat highway. We made it to the carving in little over 45min, and was greeted by a massive catamaran. With thanks to granddads threats of taking the skippers license if he touched us, and the skippers determinacy to make us move I was stuck in-between an argument between a 20ton boat and a 30kg kayak. Too my pleasure the catamaran lost this battle and soon retreated. Leaving my granddad pleased on his behalf and some messy underpants on my behalf as we set off for a good place to have lunch.

It wasn’t long before we were almost back to the boat ramp where we stuck a rock and almost pulled a titanic. It took us a matter of minutes of pushing & paddling before the bumps from a passing boat pushed us clear and we paddled well afar from the shallow water. We were very satisfied with our kyak and made one last stop at the local shop, which supplied us with the NZ ice cream we longed for…something I can never experience in Australia.

Now I have to leave NZ, but will always remember the time spent here. The great cooking by Margaret, the adventures with granddad, and the town of Taumarunui, which to my shock has grown on me considerably.

Bit dark in here!

The view getting better

Magic....