February 10, 2010
Our original plan for this day had been to drive to the Bay of Plenty area on the Pacific coast and explore. But after yesterday’s adventures in driving, plus a sales job at breakfast by our hosts, Petra and Reinhard, we decided to explore the nearby Coromandel Forest Park, a many square miles conservation area.
Just a few minutes walk from the Lodge brought us to the park border, and from there we followed well marked and groomed trails into the interior. We climbed steadily along a running brook, perhaps small river, for perhaps 3 to 4 km. At the lower level the forest was not totally unfamiliar, except for large luscious ferns it would not be strange in Canada, but as we got further up into the hills we were soon in sub-tropical rain forest. Trees hanging with moss, and giant tree ferns that could be mistaken for palm trees.
The path we were travelling on criss-crossed the stream we were following, and along the passed the entrances to several abandoned mine shafts. We had been warned about these, and there were also frequent warning signs not to explore these, as they were highly unstable. Apparently at one time this area was riddled with gold and silver mines, but eventually the minerals ran out, and the mines fell into disuse.
As we came to the top of the hill we were climbing we came to a point where we were well above the river, and in front of us was a hill with a perhaps 200 metre waterfall into a pool down below, out of which ran the river. There were people swimming in the pool, so there was a way down, we presume, but after going down a few dozen metres it became obvious that we were not equipped, shoe-wise and otherwise, to climb down a very steep slope with only trees and shrubs for handholds. We went back up to the top, and began the return journey, back to the lodge. When we were besides the river again, we found a convenient pool, and June thought she’s be adventurous enough to try to swim. That turned out to be more complicated than she first realized, involving climbing over large boulders, some of which were quite slippery, the pool turned ut not to be deep enough, and the water was quite cold. In the end, wisdom won out, we decided the risk of breaking a bone was not worth the swim, and June abandoned the exercise.
We then wandered back towards the Lodge at a leisurely pace, enjoying the view in the opposite direction from the climb up, which now included the very distant Pacific Ocean. We arrived back at the Lodge in later afternoon, and after a clean-up sat on the porch outside our room with books, and, after Petra had come by to offer them, a glass of wine (June) and a beer (Gerry.) A little later our Reinhard announced the dinner menu, which, as an English couple were arriving, had a vaguely English character. We really didn’t feel like driving into town, and so signed on for the meal, which turned out to be excellent, with very interesting and creative taste combinations. Sadly, the English couple arrived, and decided they’d look for fish and chips (ugh) in town instead, so we were alone at dinner. However, that gave us a chance to talk with our hosts (they eat with guests, but only the main course, they both avoid the appetizers and desserts, as a means of keeping weight off), and we heard their interesting story of creating a very successful boutique hotel in a very remote part of the world. Particularly interesting was that while Petra had business training, and hence fell naturally into the managing and accounting role, Reinhard had no formal chef training, and started out at best a competent amateur cook. But he read widely, and also apprenticed himself for short periods to noted chefs, and now took pride in offering meals consisting completely of locally sourced ingredients, vegetables and greens which they grew themselves, and being inventive with spices and sauces.
After supper, a bit of e-mail catching up (the Lodge offers wireless internet), some notes for blogging, and then sleep, again undisturbed by traffic noises and in absolutely pure country air.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
South and Around the Coromandel Peninsula
February 9, 2010
Up early, with breakfast at the pub underneath the hotel, a very traditional Irish breakfast, with fried potatoes, eggs, beef, and toast and jam with clotted cream. Having taken care of the low cholesterol levels, June stayed with our luggage in the hotel lobby, while I did the short 5 minute walk to the Hertz office to pick up our Camry (I thought that given every other complication in driving on the left, I might as well have a familiar car - that turned out not to be the best idea, as Toyota reverses all the controls on the steering column, and I was forever pushing or pulling or turning the wrong control). Our entire rental had been pre-paid, including the required liability insurance, but the lady who checked me out suggested I add collision and damage waiver insurance. Ordinarily I wouldn’t do that, as both my Amex and Diners Club cards have this insurance included if the rental is charged to them, but in this case the car was part of a package, and thus probably not covered. There were two levels, not very far apart in cost, and I inquired what the difference was. It seemed to be mainly how many questions would be asked in case of damage, with the higher cost insurance simply requiring that “you have to bring the car back.” That’s what I took, and it wasn’t all that long before I discovered that was a good choice.
[Just an aside on rental car insurance. I have had one bad experience with an overseas rental company charging for damage that was not present on check-in. And yes, my credit card insurance did cover it, but not before it was charged to my credit card, which apparently you give permission for, without any recourse, when you charge the rental. Usually when returning a car in another country, one is doing so just before leaving the country, and the last thing you need at that time is a lengthy dispute over alleged damages, so I’m beginning to think that taking out the damage waiver insurance is a good idea.]
Having got the car, I quickly installed my GPS, complete with Australia and New Zealand maps, navigated back to the hotel, picked up June, and then headed south out of Auckland, direction Coromandel Peninsula, and our first night’s stay, the Bushland Park Lodge, near Whangamata. South of Auckland the countryside is not terribly interesting, and we very quickly drove to the seacoast of the Firth of Thames (place names and geographic features in New Zealand seem to be either Maori, or reminiscent of England or Scotland, and sometimes both). The Firth of Thames is a very large bay, into which runs, of course, the River Thames. Travelling along the very narrow coastal road is a very quick introduction to the fact that most New Zealand Roads were constructed for English cars of the 50s and 60s, and even earlier, but are now occupied by mostly Japanese cars of the late 20th century - and a Camry is considered a large car! We stopped at one point for pictures, and down on the beach was a burned out wreck, presumably someone had missed a curve. It was here that I brushed my hand through a bush, and came out with a walking stick insect perched on my hand - a perfect imitation of a dried out twig, complete with flaky bark, and legs. After pictures, we put it back into its bush, and so perfect was the camouflage that we couldn’t see it.
After going around the bottom of the Firth of Thames, we began the journey along the other side, the Firth on the left, the Coromandel Peninsula to the right. At first it’s a series of pretty towns, with beaches, and waterfront facilities, but after a while the road begins to narrow, climb, and get quite curved.
One of the pretty towns we passed through was Tapu (which I later learned was Maori for taboo - which should have been a warning.) Our supplied hints from our travel agency suggested a side trip here of a few kilometres to a water garden with restaurant for lunch, and a tour of something I am sure is very pretty, except ...) The few kilometres were about 8, along a very narrow road, gravel, which in New Zealand includes largish rocks, and the locals call this road, I discovered at our destination, a tire shredder! That turned out not to be our problem; but not far off the main road I first encountered the very common New Zealand one-lane bridge. Not much wider than a car, wood construction, with weeds and bushes obscuring the actual entry onto the bridge. I did what any conscious of driving on the left Canadian would do, went onto the bridge keeping to the left as judged by the railing. Whereupon there was an almighty thump, the car got tossed towards the middle of the bridge, and when I got to the other side I stopped to see what happened. Obscured by the growing weeds was an oddity that I have seen only in New Zealand bridge construction. Bridge railings are attached to a large beam (wood or concrete) called an abutment; usually the abutment is to the outside, and the railing towards the inside of the bridge, but not in New Zealand. The abutments are to the inside of the railing, where if keeping left, not seeing the abutment because of weeds, they are hit by the front wheel! (I suspect that this is a remnant of colonial English construction; I dimly remember bridges constructed like this in the Yorkshire Dales, the Lake District, and Wales - the, we’ve always done it that way syndrome.)
Inspecting my front wheel, it had a very large deformation of the rim, deformed enough that I was surprised the tire had not lost inflation or just come off the wheel. There was nothing to be done except to carry on to our destination, and there seemed to be no vibration or steering problems. In the parking lot at our destination I unloaded the trunk to exchange the wheel for the spare, and noticed another car, a Mercedes, whose driver was doing the same thing; he was a New Zealander who had had the same experience, which made me feel better, except that he discovered that the wheel lugs he needed to attach his steel spare (in place of his alloy wheel - the lugs needed to be longer because of thickness differences) were missing, So he was waiting for a local garage, quite a distance away, to run a set of lugs out to him.
I changed my wheel, had a not bad lunch, and tried to call Hertz road service to see if I could arrange a new spare to be picked up somewhere. No cell service; except that everyone else’s cell phone seemed to be working. My phone hadn’t worked up in the Bay of Islands area either, but I hadn’t worried about it, thinking we were out of range. It had worked in Auckland, but thinking about it that had been sitting almost directly under the Sky City cell tower. I began to suspect that my phone, which had been in my luggage on the trip up north, had been damaged in one of the transfers.
I explained to the restaurant staff that I needed to make a call to a toll-free number, and they graciously let me use their land line to call Hertz. My very apologetic explanation of why I was calling produced a hilarious response; oh, we get that a lot. And, don’t worry, you’re covered. As for how to get another spare, that was problem. After getting our route, I was told that we were going nowhere near a Hertz office until we got to Wellington, where we would turn in the car for our transfer to the South Island.
But, not to worry the Hertz guy said. Just up the road a couple of hours is Coromandel Township, and there are two garages there that service Hertz vehicles; find one of them, tell them your story, have them check out the car to make sure it’s safe, and see what they can do with the wheel; give them this incident number, and they will bill us.
And so we continued, driving back to the main road, very carefully staying to the middle of bridges. Then on up towards Coromandel Township, along narrow roads, but with very pretty views of the Firth, lots of tall ferns the size of palm trees, and lots of photo ops - unfortunately, I was so busy concentrating on driving that I couldn’t see all of it, so June starting snapping pictures with her camera for me to look at later.
In Coromandel we found one of the garages; I told my story, and the mechanic rolled himself under the car, and came back out pronouncing everything to be “good.” Let’s see the wheel then, so I unpacked the trunk, took out the damaged wheel, which produced a pleased grunt, and a command to the “boy,” a twenty-something apprentice to take the tire off. With the tire off, the mechanic took out two great big sledge hammers, and whaled on the rim, until it was back to where it should have been. Another command to the “boy” to put the tire back on, into the trunk it went, and we were told we were good to go until Wellington, when Hertz, presumably, would replace the wheel with a new one. (If this had been somewhere in Canada, I though, we’d have had to wait two days for a rim to be shipped to us; there are advantages to being in what is still a somewhat pioneer society
And on we went, through more gorgeous scenery, with glimpses of high hills and secluded ocean coves, eventually cutting across the peninsula to the Pacific coast. Then down the coast to the town of Whangamata, and inland towards Bushland Park Lodge. Eventually we found ourselves on a gravel road (again) and then had to drive through a ford across a small river, but the GPS insisted that we were on the right track. And we were.
Bushland Park Lodge is a unique place; it only has 5 double rooms, and is run by a German couple, Petra & Reinhard Nickel. He seemingly dropped out in his 40s, went travelling in New Zealand, found this place, bought it, went back to Germany, and brought his girlfriend Petra back as his wife and business partner. He does the books, and he has become a more than fine chef. As I had had some e-mail correspondence with Petra prior to booking, they knew I was of German birth, and we were welcomed by a suggested menu for a German-inspired meal, three courses, cost about Cdn$65 per person (the alternative being driving back out on the gravel road in the dark, to the hamburger joint in Whangamata).
But first, there was the second car incident of the day. When told where to park our car, it involved backing into a narrow space around a curved path, guarded on one side by the Reinhard’s very large Porsche Cayenne, which, because of the curved path in, had the nearest front wheel fully cranked out. So, in backing in, I avoided the Porsche but not the wheel, putting a large dent into the plastic bumper shell. After establishing that his car was ok, our Reihhard told me not to worry, and not to call Hertz (again), that he knew how to take care of this. And, I’d had it with driving.
And so we took the offered meal, along with a very nice bottle of New Zealand Riesling at not much more than cost, and it was worth every penny. There was one other English couple in residence, who also joined the meal, and with desert the Reinhard offered, at no charge, several tasters of single malt scotch, which he collects.
This was followed by a trip through total darkness, with only a flashlight where needed, under a totally clear southern sky with absolutely no light pollution (we were probably 25 km from the nearest small town). No telescope was needed for amazing views of the Milky Way and the Southern constellations. The destination was a small glow worm grotto, glow worms being native to New Zealand, usually found in caves, but here in a small cavity in a rock wall, with ferns and lichens supporting them, glowing away!
And then to bed, in total stillness.
Up early, with breakfast at the pub underneath the hotel, a very traditional Irish breakfast, with fried potatoes, eggs, beef, and toast and jam with clotted cream. Having taken care of the low cholesterol levels, June stayed with our luggage in the hotel lobby, while I did the short 5 minute walk to the Hertz office to pick up our Camry (I thought that given every other complication in driving on the left, I might as well have a familiar car - that turned out not to be the best idea, as Toyota reverses all the controls on the steering column, and I was forever pushing or pulling or turning the wrong control). Our entire rental had been pre-paid, including the required liability insurance, but the lady who checked me out suggested I add collision and damage waiver insurance. Ordinarily I wouldn’t do that, as both my Amex and Diners Club cards have this insurance included if the rental is charged to them, but in this case the car was part of a package, and thus probably not covered. There were two levels, not very far apart in cost, and I inquired what the difference was. It seemed to be mainly how many questions would be asked in case of damage, with the higher cost insurance simply requiring that “you have to bring the car back.” That’s what I took, and it wasn’t all that long before I discovered that was a good choice.
[Just an aside on rental car insurance. I have had one bad experience with an overseas rental company charging for damage that was not present on check-in. And yes, my credit card insurance did cover it, but not before it was charged to my credit card, which apparently you give permission for, without any recourse, when you charge the rental. Usually when returning a car in another country, one is doing so just before leaving the country, and the last thing you need at that time is a lengthy dispute over alleged damages, so I’m beginning to think that taking out the damage waiver insurance is a good idea.]
Having got the car, I quickly installed my GPS, complete with Australia and New Zealand maps, navigated back to the hotel, picked up June, and then headed south out of Auckland, direction Coromandel Peninsula, and our first night’s stay, the Bushland Park Lodge, near Whangamata. South of Auckland the countryside is not terribly interesting, and we very quickly drove to the seacoast of the Firth of Thames (place names and geographic features in New Zealand seem to be either Maori, or reminiscent of England or Scotland, and sometimes both). The Firth of Thames is a very large bay, into which runs, of course, the River Thames. Travelling along the very narrow coastal road is a very quick introduction to the fact that most New Zealand Roads were constructed for English cars of the 50s and 60s, and even earlier, but are now occupied by mostly Japanese cars of the late 20th century - and a Camry is considered a large car! We stopped at one point for pictures, and down on the beach was a burned out wreck, presumably someone had missed a curve. It was here that I brushed my hand through a bush, and came out with a walking stick insect perched on my hand - a perfect imitation of a dried out twig, complete with flaky bark, and legs. After pictures, we put it back into its bush, and so perfect was the camouflage that we couldn’t see it.
After going around the bottom of the Firth of Thames, we began the journey along the other side, the Firth on the left, the Coromandel Peninsula to the right. At first it’s a series of pretty towns, with beaches, and waterfront facilities, but after a while the road begins to narrow, climb, and get quite curved.
One of the pretty towns we passed through was Tapu (which I later learned was Maori for taboo - which should have been a warning.) Our supplied hints from our travel agency suggested a side trip here of a few kilometres to a water garden with restaurant for lunch, and a tour of something I am sure is very pretty, except ...) The few kilometres were about 8, along a very narrow road, gravel, which in New Zealand includes largish rocks, and the locals call this road, I discovered at our destination, a tire shredder! That turned out not to be our problem; but not far off the main road I first encountered the very common New Zealand one-lane bridge. Not much wider than a car, wood construction, with weeds and bushes obscuring the actual entry onto the bridge. I did what any conscious of driving on the left Canadian would do, went onto the bridge keeping to the left as judged by the railing. Whereupon there was an almighty thump, the car got tossed towards the middle of the bridge, and when I got to the other side I stopped to see what happened. Obscured by the growing weeds was an oddity that I have seen only in New Zealand bridge construction. Bridge railings are attached to a large beam (wood or concrete) called an abutment; usually the abutment is to the outside, and the railing towards the inside of the bridge, but not in New Zealand. The abutments are to the inside of the railing, where if keeping left, not seeing the abutment because of weeds, they are hit by the front wheel! (I suspect that this is a remnant of colonial English construction; I dimly remember bridges constructed like this in the Yorkshire Dales, the Lake District, and Wales - the, we’ve always done it that way syndrome.)
Inspecting my front wheel, it had a very large deformation of the rim, deformed enough that I was surprised the tire had not lost inflation or just come off the wheel. There was nothing to be done except to carry on to our destination, and there seemed to be no vibration or steering problems. In the parking lot at our destination I unloaded the trunk to exchange the wheel for the spare, and noticed another car, a Mercedes, whose driver was doing the same thing; he was a New Zealander who had had the same experience, which made me feel better, except that he discovered that the wheel lugs he needed to attach his steel spare (in place of his alloy wheel - the lugs needed to be longer because of thickness differences) were missing, So he was waiting for a local garage, quite a distance away, to run a set of lugs out to him.
I changed my wheel, had a not bad lunch, and tried to call Hertz road service to see if I could arrange a new spare to be picked up somewhere. No cell service; except that everyone else’s cell phone seemed to be working. My phone hadn’t worked up in the Bay of Islands area either, but I hadn’t worried about it, thinking we were out of range. It had worked in Auckland, but thinking about it that had been sitting almost directly under the Sky City cell tower. I began to suspect that my phone, which had been in my luggage on the trip up north, had been damaged in one of the transfers.
I explained to the restaurant staff that I needed to make a call to a toll-free number, and they graciously let me use their land line to call Hertz. My very apologetic explanation of why I was calling produced a hilarious response; oh, we get that a lot. And, don’t worry, you’re covered. As for how to get another spare, that was problem. After getting our route, I was told that we were going nowhere near a Hertz office until we got to Wellington, where we would turn in the car for our transfer to the South Island.
But, not to worry the Hertz guy said. Just up the road a couple of hours is Coromandel Township, and there are two garages there that service Hertz vehicles; find one of them, tell them your story, have them check out the car to make sure it’s safe, and see what they can do with the wheel; give them this incident number, and they will bill us.
And so we continued, driving back to the main road, very carefully staying to the middle of bridges. Then on up towards Coromandel Township, along narrow roads, but with very pretty views of the Firth, lots of tall ferns the size of palm trees, and lots of photo ops - unfortunately, I was so busy concentrating on driving that I couldn’t see all of it, so June starting snapping pictures with her camera for me to look at later.
In Coromandel we found one of the garages; I told my story, and the mechanic rolled himself under the car, and came back out pronouncing everything to be “good.” Let’s see the wheel then, so I unpacked the trunk, took out the damaged wheel, which produced a pleased grunt, and a command to the “boy,” a twenty-something apprentice to take the tire off. With the tire off, the mechanic took out two great big sledge hammers, and whaled on the rim, until it was back to where it should have been. Another command to the “boy” to put the tire back on, into the trunk it went, and we were told we were good to go until Wellington, when Hertz, presumably, would replace the wheel with a new one. (If this had been somewhere in Canada, I though, we’d have had to wait two days for a rim to be shipped to us; there are advantages to being in what is still a somewhat pioneer society
And on we went, through more gorgeous scenery, with glimpses of high hills and secluded ocean coves, eventually cutting across the peninsula to the Pacific coast. Then down the coast to the town of Whangamata, and inland towards Bushland Park Lodge. Eventually we found ourselves on a gravel road (again) and then had to drive through a ford across a small river, but the GPS insisted that we were on the right track. And we were.
Bushland Park Lodge is a unique place; it only has 5 double rooms, and is run by a German couple, Petra & Reinhard Nickel. He seemingly dropped out in his 40s, went travelling in New Zealand, found this place, bought it, went back to Germany, and brought his girlfriend Petra back as his wife and business partner. He does the books, and he has become a more than fine chef. As I had had some e-mail correspondence with Petra prior to booking, they knew I was of German birth, and we were welcomed by a suggested menu for a German-inspired meal, three courses, cost about Cdn$65 per person (the alternative being driving back out on the gravel road in the dark, to the hamburger joint in Whangamata).
But first, there was the second car incident of the day. When told where to park our car, it involved backing into a narrow space around a curved path, guarded on one side by the Reinhard’s very large Porsche Cayenne, which, because of the curved path in, had the nearest front wheel fully cranked out. So, in backing in, I avoided the Porsche but not the wheel, putting a large dent into the plastic bumper shell. After establishing that his car was ok, our Reihhard told me not to worry, and not to call Hertz (again), that he knew how to take care of this. And, I’d had it with driving.
And so we took the offered meal, along with a very nice bottle of New Zealand Riesling at not much more than cost, and it was worth every penny. There was one other English couple in residence, who also joined the meal, and with desert the Reinhard offered, at no charge, several tasters of single malt scotch, which he collects.
This was followed by a trip through total darkness, with only a flashlight where needed, under a totally clear southern sky with absolutely no light pollution (we were probably 25 km from the nearest small town). No telescope was needed for amazing views of the Milky Way and the Southern constellations. The destination was a small glow worm grotto, glow worms being native to New Zealand, usually found in caves, but here in a small cavity in a rock wall, with ferns and lichens supporting them, glowing away!
And then to bed, in total stillness.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Northward; Bay of Islands, Cape Reinga and Back
February 6, 2010
We were picked up very early from the hotel by van, and transferred to a central bus depot, where we transferred to a large tour coach for the drive north to the Bay of Islands, and the town of Paiha. A very comfortable trip, with a very knowledgeable driver/guide, who kept us entertained with commentary. He was Maori, and thus also was able to tell us about the history and traditions of the original settlers in New Zealand. Settlers is the appropriate word, as the Maori did not arrive in New Zealand and settle until the 13th century, coming from somewhere in Polynesia (possibly as far north as the Hawaiian islands; interesting that the eternal place that Maori souls travel to after death is Hawaiiki). We learned that Maori and various Polynesian peoples can understand each others’ languages, even though they cannot communicate perfectly.
We also had some quick lessons in Maori, a language which is very melodic with a simple grammatical structure. One oddity is emphasis, to emphasize a word, on simply doubles it, explaining why so many New Zealand place names are doubled. When British settlers first arrived, there was no written Maori, and as happened also in Canada, a written language which is mostly phonetic was developed using the English alphabet. Thus, Maori words can be sounded out more or less as they are written, as the language has no stressed syllables. The one odd exception if the letter combination “wh” which is pronounced “f” leading one to suspect the linguist who developed this written language might have been influenced by Welsh.
The highway north is a good wide road, and we made good time, stopping once at a Kauri preserve at Warkworth (which had a signpost pointing to other Warkworths in the world, including the one in Ontario, 8880 miles away), and another stop at a roadhouse where we were able to purchase breakfast cooked to order, and again, very good coffee. We are beginning to understand that New Zealanders take their coffee seriously, and do not tolerate low quality. The scenery along the drive north is initially gently rolling hills, and farther north becomes more flat plain. A lot of the land is farmed, with much of it cattle grazing land, or sheep. Our driver/guide explained that the ratio of sheep to people in New Zealand has been dropping from about 10 to 1 to perhaps 6 or 7 to 1, a result of the increasing use of synthetics in fabrics dropping the price of wool. Instead beef and dairy cattle have been increasing.
As we came near to our destination of Pahia on the Bay of Islands our driver made an announcement to those of us booked into the Copthorne Hotel, which was us and one other young Indian couple. It turns out that February 6 is NOT a good day to want to book into this hotel. The reason was a quick history lesson; the foundational document of the nation of New Zealand is the Waitangi Treaty, signed by the Maori and the English settlers on February 6 at Waitangi. This is now a national historic site, where every February 6 a re-enactment attended by many thousands of people and just about every politicians of note is held. Unfortunately, the hotel we were booked into is on the Waitangi Treaty Grounds, there is only one bridge to the hotel and Treaty Grounds, and there was no way a bus was going to be able to get there. Given that our travel agency styles itself as “down-under” experts, this should have been caught.
Our driver/guide did his best, storing our luggage on the bus until his late afternoon return to Auckland, and re-booking some of the rest of our day with the operators of the Bay of Islands ferry service. During lunch in a lovely restaurant overlooking the water, we were able to see an island across the bay on which Maori warriors were holding a ceremony, and then boarded a very large war canoe to paddle across the water for the re-enactment. We then boarded a ferry to Russell, the small town which was the 1st capital of New Zealand. On the way we passed a New Zealand Navy warship, also in the bay for the celebrations. Russell is a little town that time forgot, and we took a tour around by mini-bus through streets lined with colonial houses, and also up Flag Hill, where a Maori man, beside a very tall flag pole on which was flying a Maori flag offered an alternate history to what was being celebrated across the water. Without taking too much space, not all Maori are happy with their place within New Zealand, even though Maori is one official language (the other being English) and Maori are at all levels within society and political life. The flag pole on this hill was one of controversy, the English put it up, the Maori burned it down, several times. Eventually everyone got tired of the games, and it now is up, but flies the alternative Maori flag.
We returned to the dock at Pahia, and retrieved our luggage from the bus, and parked it in the ferry building. The ferry operators, Fullers (who also operate the tour coach we came on), did their best to contact the hotel and to arrange for our pick-up. But, the time when that would become feasible (that is, the bridge cleared) kept getting pushed later and later, and finally around 7 p.m. Fullers laid on a rather large ferry boat for us and the Indian couple (at no cost to us), took us over to the hotel docks, where a hotel golf cart and trailer picked us up and took us to check in. On the way we saw the one-lane bridge that we should have crossed, which was still wall-to-wall people, and the treaty grounds were still full of visitors. The pre-booked tour of the Treaty House was simply not feasible, and in the end we never did get to see it. We got to our room, freshened up, and went in search of supper. Of course the hotel was the only possibility; ordinarily we could have caught a hotel shuttle into Pahia and had some choice of dining, but as it was, the hotel buffet was the only game in town, so we settled for that, very picked over as it was.
February 7, 2010
An early pick-up by another Fullers tour coach to take us up the west coast of North Island to Cape Reinga, the very top of the island (actually Cape Reinga is not the northern-most point, because of the way New Zealand is tilted, that honour belongs to another cape to the east, but in Maori tradition Cape Reinga figures prominently as the “top” of the North Island).
First a stop at a Kauri preserve, with a stand of mature trees with bases about 8 feet in diameter, standing hundreds of feet tall. Amazing! Then a store and rest-stop where we had a snack breakfast and some soft drinks but also to view Kauri furniture and a Kauri stump so large that it had a staircase carved into its interior as a means of getting to the 2nd story of the building. Currently, it is not legal to cut down Kauri trees; all the wood that is available for sale is either wood that predates the ban on harvesting, or it is wood from downed trees that has lain in swamps for many decades. Kauri is simply impervious to water, and a fallen tree in a swamp is as good as one newly cut. There is quite an industry in Kauri salvage from swamp lands; the salvager pays the farmer/owner for the right to the wood, drains the swamp, removes the wood, and then restores the area to usable farm land; everyone wins, all around. It’s an expensive process however, and even small pieces of Kauri furniture are very expensive.
Then onward for the drive up the 100 Mile Beach on the Tasman Sea. The drive is on hard-packed sand, as our driver told us, the only road in New Zealand graded twice daily by the tide. It is apparently not a good idea to drive this beach unless you know what you are doing; for a start, if you are driving a rental car you void your insurance. Streams cross the beach, sometimes only barely visible above ground, flowing mostly underground, leaving quicksand-like conditions. The tour coach drivers know how to read the ground, and thus merrily blast up the beach at speeds approaching 100 km/hour, but there is very little other traffic. Incidentally, the 100 Mile Beach is more like a 100 km Beach (about 60 miles), named by the Dutch explorer Abel Tasman, possibly not the greatest navigator, who gave New Zealand its name, but unaccountably failed to claim it for Holland. The claim for the British crown was made by Captain Cook, some time after Tasman, hence a British colony with a Dutch name.
On the way north on the beach one passes an island that the sea has worn a hole through (not the only one around) which figures in Maori mythology. When a Maori dies, the soul travels up the Tasman Coast, along the 100 Mile Beach, and then dips into the ocean through this hole as a means of purification before continuing northward to Cape Reinga. At Cape Reinga the soul enters the (at that point) South Pacific ocean along the roots of a sacred tree, and continues its journey to the Maori paradise Hawaiiki.
For the mortal person on a tour coach, one leaves the beach along a shallow river valley bordered on the northern side by quite high (several hundred feet) sand dunes, and those so inclined can engage in yet another New Zealand “sport” - sand dune surfing. One climbs to the top of the dune carrying a simple flexible sheet of plastic; lies on it, pulls up on the front of the sheet, and shoots downhill. The tricky part is stopping at the bottom by dragging feet, before hitting a watery, swampy area. If lucky, you arrive dry, but with clothing, mouth, nose, etc. filled with sand. After a few turns at this, the tour continues.
Up the Tasman Sea cost, and through some parts of the interior, one arrives at Cape Reinga. The final 500 metres is on foot, on well-paved paths, but with some steep hills. The Cape itself is marked by a light house, and far to the north are three uninhabited islands named the Three Kings by Abel Tasman; he sailed by them on Epiphany Day (historical inquiry; did Captain Cook get his habit of naming islands and places after the days in the Church year on which he discovered them from Abel Tasman, or was that simply something explorers did in those days?) It is to the north of Cape Reinga that the Tasman Sea and the South Pacific Ocean meet. As the tides in the two oceans are different, the sea is quite rough at times; on our day there it was relatively mild, but even to the naked eye it was obvious that there were strong currents and eddies. Just a few hundred metres to the east is a rocky promontory, quite rugged, with a very wind-blown tree clinging by its roots to the very end of the rock. That is the tree roots down which Maori souls travel.
From Cape Reinga we travelled southward through the middle of the island, which at this point is very narrow, a dozen kilometres or so, with very good views of the Pacific coast. Eventually we stopped for lunch in the small village of Houhora on Houhora Bay. The latter is a sheltered lagoon with a narrow entrance protected for most of its width by a sandbar, making it an ideal harbour. It attracts a considerable number of high-skill amateur sailors (you have to be good to sail the Pacific) and we were served lunch, buffet style, at the local yacht club, which obviously is very practised at this and probably raises considerable funds for a quite lovely building, and probably keeps membership fees reasonable.
Then we continued south, eventually returning to the route we had taken north. New Zealand, being sparsely populated in many parts, often has only one road in some parts. After a bit of sightseeing from the bus we were returned to our hotel.
After a full day we were tired enough not to want to explore the village, so settled for the buffet dinner again. This time it was a pleasant surprise; without the previous day’s crowds, everything was fresh, and excellently prepared.
February 8, 2010
Up early, pack up our luggage, have breakfast, in time for pick-up by the hotel shuttle to the docks at Pahia where we are booked for the all day “Cream Trip - A Day in the Bay” on yet another of the ubiquitous Fuller boats. The ferry company stores our luggage, assuring us it will be put onto the coach by which we will return in the late afternoon to Auckland. Then onto a very large, several hundred passenger catamaran for what will be an all day cruise of the Bay of Islands.
A note on the name, Cream Trip. In the early 1920s, a local boat operator, Captain Fuller, ran a daily trip around the Bay of Islands, delivering mail, and picking up the milk and cream from the farms on the many islands. As tourists arrived from southern Auckland, he saw an opportunity, and invited tourists to join on this trip, to see the Bay. Eventually, the milk and cream industry vanished, and tourism became the primary source of income in the Bay, and Fullers developed into its present day form of a ferry service not only in the Bay of Islands, but also in Auckland. However, the Cream trip, which follows the original route, still delivers mail, and packages from shops, and anything else, to the cottagers and permanent residents on the islands.
The Bay of Islands is listed as one of 1001 places to see before you die, and it deserves being on that list. Rugged rocky coasts, serene islands with pleasant sheltered harbours and grassy hills, bird colonies, dolphins that, if so inclined, play with swimmers, it is all here. Further out is the South Pacific Ocean, with pleasantly choppy (if you are on a large cat with wave-piercing pontoons) waters. Also out at the edge between bay and ocean is an island with a hole through it, except this one the boat goes through. It’s not unlike riding the thread as it goes through the eye of the needle, except the currents here are strong, multi-directional, and not totally predictable. But the skippers of these boats seem to know what they are doing, and through we went, with not much room to spare on each side or overhead. From there it was back to the pier, with first a stop in a pleasant bay with camping facilities, a beach we could swim from, and a hill to climb for the view from the top. We chose the latter, and the slow but steady climb was worth it; from the top one can see the entire Bay of Islands layed out.
On arrival back at the pier we checked, and sure enough, our luggage was on the tour coach, and we shortly left for Auckland, reversing the route we had taken north. We arrived in Auckland near sunset, and again have to praise Fuller’s for their organization. The coach stopped at various points along the main road into the city, where there were waiting vans to take passengers and luggage to particular hotels. We were duly offloaded, our luggage transferred, and taken back to the Heritage Auckland for our last night. The only glitch was the overly helpful passenger who insisted on doing the driver’s work, taking our luggage off. It was only when we were checking in that I realized my rolling laptop case was not with us. However, the hotel was very helpful, calling the central bus station, who located the van by cell phone, and a few minutes later the case was delivered to us.
Ironically, firing up the laptop and checking e-mail got me an e-mail from our travel agency, sent from Toronto on February 6 (which would have been February 7 in New Zealand) informing us that we would have problems checking into our hotel on the 6th because of the Waitangi Treaty celebrations. No suggestions for alternatives, no recognition this was already too late. I had also checked with the hotel, and they insisted that they would have informed the person making the booking of the problem. So, nasty e-mail was sent,not that that will change anything.
Supper was at the pub underneath the hotel, and then bed. Tomorrow we pick up our rental car for the remainder of the trip.
We were picked up very early from the hotel by van, and transferred to a central bus depot, where we transferred to a large tour coach for the drive north to the Bay of Islands, and the town of Paiha. A very comfortable trip, with a very knowledgeable driver/guide, who kept us entertained with commentary. He was Maori, and thus also was able to tell us about the history and traditions of the original settlers in New Zealand. Settlers is the appropriate word, as the Maori did not arrive in New Zealand and settle until the 13th century, coming from somewhere in Polynesia (possibly as far north as the Hawaiian islands; interesting that the eternal place that Maori souls travel to after death is Hawaiiki). We learned that Maori and various Polynesian peoples can understand each others’ languages, even though they cannot communicate perfectly.
We also had some quick lessons in Maori, a language which is very melodic with a simple grammatical structure. One oddity is emphasis, to emphasize a word, on simply doubles it, explaining why so many New Zealand place names are doubled. When British settlers first arrived, there was no written Maori, and as happened also in Canada, a written language which is mostly phonetic was developed using the English alphabet. Thus, Maori words can be sounded out more or less as they are written, as the language has no stressed syllables. The one odd exception if the letter combination “wh” which is pronounced “f” leading one to suspect the linguist who developed this written language might have been influenced by Welsh.
The highway north is a good wide road, and we made good time, stopping once at a Kauri preserve at Warkworth (which had a signpost pointing to other Warkworths in the world, including the one in Ontario, 8880 miles away), and another stop at a roadhouse where we were able to purchase breakfast cooked to order, and again, very good coffee. We are beginning to understand that New Zealanders take their coffee seriously, and do not tolerate low quality. The scenery along the drive north is initially gently rolling hills, and farther north becomes more flat plain. A lot of the land is farmed, with much of it cattle grazing land, or sheep. Our driver/guide explained that the ratio of sheep to people in New Zealand has been dropping from about 10 to 1 to perhaps 6 or 7 to 1, a result of the increasing use of synthetics in fabrics dropping the price of wool. Instead beef and dairy cattle have been increasing.
As we came near to our destination of Pahia on the Bay of Islands our driver made an announcement to those of us booked into the Copthorne Hotel, which was us and one other young Indian couple. It turns out that February 6 is NOT a good day to want to book into this hotel. The reason was a quick history lesson; the foundational document of the nation of New Zealand is the Waitangi Treaty, signed by the Maori and the English settlers on February 6 at Waitangi. This is now a national historic site, where every February 6 a re-enactment attended by many thousands of people and just about every politicians of note is held. Unfortunately, the hotel we were booked into is on the Waitangi Treaty Grounds, there is only one bridge to the hotel and Treaty Grounds, and there was no way a bus was going to be able to get there. Given that our travel agency styles itself as “down-under” experts, this should have been caught.
Our driver/guide did his best, storing our luggage on the bus until his late afternoon return to Auckland, and re-booking some of the rest of our day with the operators of the Bay of Islands ferry service. During lunch in a lovely restaurant overlooking the water, we were able to see an island across the bay on which Maori warriors were holding a ceremony, and then boarded a very large war canoe to paddle across the water for the re-enactment. We then boarded a ferry to Russell, the small town which was the 1st capital of New Zealand. On the way we passed a New Zealand Navy warship, also in the bay for the celebrations. Russell is a little town that time forgot, and we took a tour around by mini-bus through streets lined with colonial houses, and also up Flag Hill, where a Maori man, beside a very tall flag pole on which was flying a Maori flag offered an alternate history to what was being celebrated across the water. Without taking too much space, not all Maori are happy with their place within New Zealand, even though Maori is one official language (the other being English) and Maori are at all levels within society and political life. The flag pole on this hill was one of controversy, the English put it up, the Maori burned it down, several times. Eventually everyone got tired of the games, and it now is up, but flies the alternative Maori flag.
We returned to the dock at Pahia, and retrieved our luggage from the bus, and parked it in the ferry building. The ferry operators, Fullers (who also operate the tour coach we came on), did their best to contact the hotel and to arrange for our pick-up. But, the time when that would become feasible (that is, the bridge cleared) kept getting pushed later and later, and finally around 7 p.m. Fullers laid on a rather large ferry boat for us and the Indian couple (at no cost to us), took us over to the hotel docks, where a hotel golf cart and trailer picked us up and took us to check in. On the way we saw the one-lane bridge that we should have crossed, which was still wall-to-wall people, and the treaty grounds were still full of visitors. The pre-booked tour of the Treaty House was simply not feasible, and in the end we never did get to see it. We got to our room, freshened up, and went in search of supper. Of course the hotel was the only possibility; ordinarily we could have caught a hotel shuttle into Pahia and had some choice of dining, but as it was, the hotel buffet was the only game in town, so we settled for that, very picked over as it was.
February 7, 2010
An early pick-up by another Fullers tour coach to take us up the west coast of North Island to Cape Reinga, the very top of the island (actually Cape Reinga is not the northern-most point, because of the way New Zealand is tilted, that honour belongs to another cape to the east, but in Maori tradition Cape Reinga figures prominently as the “top” of the North Island).
First a stop at a Kauri preserve, with a stand of mature trees with bases about 8 feet in diameter, standing hundreds of feet tall. Amazing! Then a store and rest-stop where we had a snack breakfast and some soft drinks but also to view Kauri furniture and a Kauri stump so large that it had a staircase carved into its interior as a means of getting to the 2nd story of the building. Currently, it is not legal to cut down Kauri trees; all the wood that is available for sale is either wood that predates the ban on harvesting, or it is wood from downed trees that has lain in swamps for many decades. Kauri is simply impervious to water, and a fallen tree in a swamp is as good as one newly cut. There is quite an industry in Kauri salvage from swamp lands; the salvager pays the farmer/owner for the right to the wood, drains the swamp, removes the wood, and then restores the area to usable farm land; everyone wins, all around. It’s an expensive process however, and even small pieces of Kauri furniture are very expensive.
Then onward for the drive up the 100 Mile Beach on the Tasman Sea. The drive is on hard-packed sand, as our driver told us, the only road in New Zealand graded twice daily by the tide. It is apparently not a good idea to drive this beach unless you know what you are doing; for a start, if you are driving a rental car you void your insurance. Streams cross the beach, sometimes only barely visible above ground, flowing mostly underground, leaving quicksand-like conditions. The tour coach drivers know how to read the ground, and thus merrily blast up the beach at speeds approaching 100 km/hour, but there is very little other traffic. Incidentally, the 100 Mile Beach is more like a 100 km Beach (about 60 miles), named by the Dutch explorer Abel Tasman, possibly not the greatest navigator, who gave New Zealand its name, but unaccountably failed to claim it for Holland. The claim for the British crown was made by Captain Cook, some time after Tasman, hence a British colony with a Dutch name.
On the way north on the beach one passes an island that the sea has worn a hole through (not the only one around) which figures in Maori mythology. When a Maori dies, the soul travels up the Tasman Coast, along the 100 Mile Beach, and then dips into the ocean through this hole as a means of purification before continuing northward to Cape Reinga. At Cape Reinga the soul enters the (at that point) South Pacific ocean along the roots of a sacred tree, and continues its journey to the Maori paradise Hawaiiki.
For the mortal person on a tour coach, one leaves the beach along a shallow river valley bordered on the northern side by quite high (several hundred feet) sand dunes, and those so inclined can engage in yet another New Zealand “sport” - sand dune surfing. One climbs to the top of the dune carrying a simple flexible sheet of plastic; lies on it, pulls up on the front of the sheet, and shoots downhill. The tricky part is stopping at the bottom by dragging feet, before hitting a watery, swampy area. If lucky, you arrive dry, but with clothing, mouth, nose, etc. filled with sand. After a few turns at this, the tour continues.
Up the Tasman Sea cost, and through some parts of the interior, one arrives at Cape Reinga. The final 500 metres is on foot, on well-paved paths, but with some steep hills. The Cape itself is marked by a light house, and far to the north are three uninhabited islands named the Three Kings by Abel Tasman; he sailed by them on Epiphany Day (historical inquiry; did Captain Cook get his habit of naming islands and places after the days in the Church year on which he discovered them from Abel Tasman, or was that simply something explorers did in those days?) It is to the north of Cape Reinga that the Tasman Sea and the South Pacific Ocean meet. As the tides in the two oceans are different, the sea is quite rough at times; on our day there it was relatively mild, but even to the naked eye it was obvious that there were strong currents and eddies. Just a few hundred metres to the east is a rocky promontory, quite rugged, with a very wind-blown tree clinging by its roots to the very end of the rock. That is the tree roots down which Maori souls travel.
From Cape Reinga we travelled southward through the middle of the island, which at this point is very narrow, a dozen kilometres or so, with very good views of the Pacific coast. Eventually we stopped for lunch in the small village of Houhora on Houhora Bay. The latter is a sheltered lagoon with a narrow entrance protected for most of its width by a sandbar, making it an ideal harbour. It attracts a considerable number of high-skill amateur sailors (you have to be good to sail the Pacific) and we were served lunch, buffet style, at the local yacht club, which obviously is very practised at this and probably raises considerable funds for a quite lovely building, and probably keeps membership fees reasonable.
Then we continued south, eventually returning to the route we had taken north. New Zealand, being sparsely populated in many parts, often has only one road in some parts. After a bit of sightseeing from the bus we were returned to our hotel.
After a full day we were tired enough not to want to explore the village, so settled for the buffet dinner again. This time it was a pleasant surprise; without the previous day’s crowds, everything was fresh, and excellently prepared.
February 8, 2010
Up early, pack up our luggage, have breakfast, in time for pick-up by the hotel shuttle to the docks at Pahia where we are booked for the all day “Cream Trip - A Day in the Bay” on yet another of the ubiquitous Fuller boats. The ferry company stores our luggage, assuring us it will be put onto the coach by which we will return in the late afternoon to Auckland. Then onto a very large, several hundred passenger catamaran for what will be an all day cruise of the Bay of Islands.
A note on the name, Cream Trip. In the early 1920s, a local boat operator, Captain Fuller, ran a daily trip around the Bay of Islands, delivering mail, and picking up the milk and cream from the farms on the many islands. As tourists arrived from southern Auckland, he saw an opportunity, and invited tourists to join on this trip, to see the Bay. Eventually, the milk and cream industry vanished, and tourism became the primary source of income in the Bay, and Fullers developed into its present day form of a ferry service not only in the Bay of Islands, but also in Auckland. However, the Cream trip, which follows the original route, still delivers mail, and packages from shops, and anything else, to the cottagers and permanent residents on the islands.
The Bay of Islands is listed as one of 1001 places to see before you die, and it deserves being on that list. Rugged rocky coasts, serene islands with pleasant sheltered harbours and grassy hills, bird colonies, dolphins that, if so inclined, play with swimmers, it is all here. Further out is the South Pacific Ocean, with pleasantly choppy (if you are on a large cat with wave-piercing pontoons) waters. Also out at the edge between bay and ocean is an island with a hole through it, except this one the boat goes through. It’s not unlike riding the thread as it goes through the eye of the needle, except the currents here are strong, multi-directional, and not totally predictable. But the skippers of these boats seem to know what they are doing, and through we went, with not much room to spare on each side or overhead. From there it was back to the pier, with first a stop in a pleasant bay with camping facilities, a beach we could swim from, and a hill to climb for the view from the top. We chose the latter, and the slow but steady climb was worth it; from the top one can see the entire Bay of Islands layed out.
On arrival back at the pier we checked, and sure enough, our luggage was on the tour coach, and we shortly left for Auckland, reversing the route we had taken north. We arrived in Auckland near sunset, and again have to praise Fuller’s for their organization. The coach stopped at various points along the main road into the city, where there were waiting vans to take passengers and luggage to particular hotels. We were duly offloaded, our luggage transferred, and taken back to the Heritage Auckland for our last night. The only glitch was the overly helpful passenger who insisted on doing the driver’s work, taking our luggage off. It was only when we were checking in that I realized my rolling laptop case was not with us. However, the hotel was very helpful, calling the central bus station, who located the van by cell phone, and a few minutes later the case was delivered to us.
Ironically, firing up the laptop and checking e-mail got me an e-mail from our travel agency, sent from Toronto on February 6 (which would have been February 7 in New Zealand) informing us that we would have problems checking into our hotel on the 6th because of the Waitangi Treaty celebrations. No suggestions for alternatives, no recognition this was already too late. I had also checked with the hotel, and they insisted that they would have informed the person making the booking of the problem. So, nasty e-mail was sent,not that that will change anything.
Supper was at the pub underneath the hotel, and then bed. Tomorrow we pick up our rental car for the remainder of the trip.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Two days in Auckland
February 4, 2010
Thursday morning; got up to an excellent breakfast (included in our room rate, which was less than the place in Sydney) at the Heritage hotel; not just good food, but excellent coffee, the latter available from self-serve coffee machines - you dial in what you want (plain, espresso, latte, with additions, like extra milk, or more concentrated coffee) and it pours it into your cup, freshly ground and freshly brewed. I want one of these in our kitchen!
Then, a short walk to Sky City, Auckland’s communications tower, with a short stop at one of the many cell phone stores along the way to pick up a New Zealand pre-paid SIM card for my unlocked cell phone. Instant local communications for a surprisingly low price. Sky City is a tower, sort of like the CN Tower, shorter, but on a hill. At the bottom there is an entertainment complex, casino and all, but the real thrill is at the top. First of all, you have a viewing gallery that offers 360 degree views of Auckland and the surrounding area. But also, there is opportunity to partake in one of the important New Zealand industries; extreme sports. One, you can spend a considerable amount of money and do a controlled jump down to street level. Controlled meaning that you are on a cable, in a harness that is connected to two guide wires that guide you down to a target platform; the cable lets go and then stops you after a few dozen feet so you dangle in front of the viewing platform windows, and after a few seconds lets go, and you drop some hundreds of metres, with the controlling cable coming back into play (you hope) just before you hit bottom - and for this you pay money. Two, there is the skywalk, a roughly 1 foot wide walkway all around the top of the tower with nothing below it but several hundred metres of air; you are hooked by a short cable to a rail above, and then you simply walk around the tower - I suppose it is perfectly safe, but you couldn’t pay me any amount to do this, let alone me paying them to allow me to do it.
From Sky City, back to the harbour area and a short lunch. Then onto one of the harbour ferries for a short trip to Devonport, one of the many Auckland suburbs, this one being an almost perfect copy of an Edwardian English seaside town. Quaint cottages, pretty beaches, a lot of artsy-crafty shops, all within view of the magnificent Auckland downtown skyline.
Back to the city in later afternoon, to scout out the departure location of a pre-booked dinner cruise the next night, and to find a place to eat. That turns out to be an Irish pub directly underneath our hotel, totally authentic, in that is was an actual Dublin pub that had been dismantled, shipped to Auckland, and reassembled by Irish craftsmen. Authenticity aside, they had excellent beer, and amazing braised lamb shanks - an excellent supper. We also noted that they offered breakfast; while we have breakfast included in our hotel package on this stay; that would change as we moved onto our pre-booked package on return from the North, and our final morning in Auckland would not include breakfast.
February 5, 2010
The next morning, after breakfast, we were picked up for an all-day City and Beach tour. As it happened, we were the only ones that had booked this day, so we had a van and driver/guide all to ourselves. The morning was an extensive city tour, of all the interesting parts of Auckland; also some of the suburbs, including Devonport, again. A lot of time was spent in various harbours, and, as Auckland is (probably) the only city in the world on two oceans, we visited both the Pacific shore, and the Tasman Sea shore (both of which have extensive recreation boat harbours, but one has to choose which one to sail in, as there is no connection between the two oceans). Lunch was at the seafood docks, where freshly caught fish and other sea critters are available for purchase, but where there is a restaurant the serves freshly caught seafood to order. You place your order, literally pointing out the fish or whatever you want to have, along with sides, and then are given a pager. You are now free to tour the complex, with its ice-filled counters full of sea critters that you have never imagined, and when your pager goes off, you go back to the restaurant for your (delicious) freshly cooked lunch.
After lunch we were handed off to the Beach portion of the tour, which was somewhat more full than the morning, including some Italians who spoke no English, let alone being able to understand English with a Kiwi accent. We headed out into the Waitakere Ranges Parklands, lands bordering on the Tasman Sea. Some of this area is very ancient forests, but it also has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, some of which we visited.
Slightly disconcerting, when we noticed them, were signs along the roads we were driving on that announced that this was a “Tsunami Escape Route” - more disconcerting after we realized that we had passed signs, going in the wrong direction, that announced “Tsunami Safe Level.” However, the beaches we saw, and were able to walk along barefoot, were absolutely gorgeous, and there was no tsunami!
It was on this tour that we first heard of kauri trees. Native only to New Zealand, this almost extinct species has special significance to the country, and the aboriginal Maori. Kauri are a tree that is very slow-growing, but grows very tall, with no branches, hence no knots, for 50 feet or more. They are also very resistant to insect infestation, as they shed their bark annually. When first discovered, they were a natural source of masts and spars for the Royal Navy. By the end of the era of sailing ships, the kauri had become almost extinct, and are now completely protected, There are reforestation schemes. But because of the slow growth, these will not see mature trees for many more years.
Back to Auckland, a clean-up at the hotel, and then back to the harbour area for our dinner cruise on a 50 foot yacht. Here was the first glitch in our pre-booked arrangements - the location we were given for checking in closed before we got there - fortunately we had checked out the scene before, and knew exactly where to go instead. The dinner was excellent, poached salmon, and fresh vegetables, as well as appetizers and dessert; more amazing because it was prepared in a sailboat galley.
After dinner we continued to sail around Auckland Harbour, and those who wanted got a turn at the helm of the boat - unless some miracle happens, my only time controlling a sailboat that size. As we returned to our mooring, we were buzzed by a Zodiac, in control of a number of obviously drunk teenagers; our skipper, after radioing the harbour master and ttelling us that nothing what so ever would be done about this incident, introduced us to New Zealand libertarianism - if you had the money to buy a boat of any kind, there were no tests, no licencing, no need to know the rules, and there were no laws to stop you from doing anything whatsoever. (Sort of like Canadian gun laws.)
And so to bed; tomorrow we begin the pre-booked portion of this trip.
Thursday morning; got up to an excellent breakfast (included in our room rate, which was less than the place in Sydney) at the Heritage hotel; not just good food, but excellent coffee, the latter available from self-serve coffee machines - you dial in what you want (plain, espresso, latte, with additions, like extra milk, or more concentrated coffee) and it pours it into your cup, freshly ground and freshly brewed. I want one of these in our kitchen!
Then, a short walk to Sky City, Auckland’s communications tower, with a short stop at one of the many cell phone stores along the way to pick up a New Zealand pre-paid SIM card for my unlocked cell phone. Instant local communications for a surprisingly low price. Sky City is a tower, sort of like the CN Tower, shorter, but on a hill. At the bottom there is an entertainment complex, casino and all, but the real thrill is at the top. First of all, you have a viewing gallery that offers 360 degree views of Auckland and the surrounding area. But also, there is opportunity to partake in one of the important New Zealand industries; extreme sports. One, you can spend a considerable amount of money and do a controlled jump down to street level. Controlled meaning that you are on a cable, in a harness that is connected to two guide wires that guide you down to a target platform; the cable lets go and then stops you after a few dozen feet so you dangle in front of the viewing platform windows, and after a few seconds lets go, and you drop some hundreds of metres, with the controlling cable coming back into play (you hope) just before you hit bottom - and for this you pay money. Two, there is the skywalk, a roughly 1 foot wide walkway all around the top of the tower with nothing below it but several hundred metres of air; you are hooked by a short cable to a rail above, and then you simply walk around the tower - I suppose it is perfectly safe, but you couldn’t pay me any amount to do this, let alone me paying them to allow me to do it.
From Sky City, back to the harbour area and a short lunch. Then onto one of the harbour ferries for a short trip to Devonport, one of the many Auckland suburbs, this one being an almost perfect copy of an Edwardian English seaside town. Quaint cottages, pretty beaches, a lot of artsy-crafty shops, all within view of the magnificent Auckland downtown skyline.
Back to the city in later afternoon, to scout out the departure location of a pre-booked dinner cruise the next night, and to find a place to eat. That turns out to be an Irish pub directly underneath our hotel, totally authentic, in that is was an actual Dublin pub that had been dismantled, shipped to Auckland, and reassembled by Irish craftsmen. Authenticity aside, they had excellent beer, and amazing braised lamb shanks - an excellent supper. We also noted that they offered breakfast; while we have breakfast included in our hotel package on this stay; that would change as we moved onto our pre-booked package on return from the North, and our final morning in Auckland would not include breakfast.
February 5, 2010
The next morning, after breakfast, we were picked up for an all-day City and Beach tour. As it happened, we were the only ones that had booked this day, so we had a van and driver/guide all to ourselves. The morning was an extensive city tour, of all the interesting parts of Auckland; also some of the suburbs, including Devonport, again. A lot of time was spent in various harbours, and, as Auckland is (probably) the only city in the world on two oceans, we visited both the Pacific shore, and the Tasman Sea shore (both of which have extensive recreation boat harbours, but one has to choose which one to sail in, as there is no connection between the two oceans). Lunch was at the seafood docks, where freshly caught fish and other sea critters are available for purchase, but where there is a restaurant the serves freshly caught seafood to order. You place your order, literally pointing out the fish or whatever you want to have, along with sides, and then are given a pager. You are now free to tour the complex, with its ice-filled counters full of sea critters that you have never imagined, and when your pager goes off, you go back to the restaurant for your (delicious) freshly cooked lunch.
After lunch we were handed off to the Beach portion of the tour, which was somewhat more full than the morning, including some Italians who spoke no English, let alone being able to understand English with a Kiwi accent. We headed out into the Waitakere Ranges Parklands, lands bordering on the Tasman Sea. Some of this area is very ancient forests, but it also has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, some of which we visited.
Slightly disconcerting, when we noticed them, were signs along the roads we were driving on that announced that this was a “Tsunami Escape Route” - more disconcerting after we realized that we had passed signs, going in the wrong direction, that announced “Tsunami Safe Level.” However, the beaches we saw, and were able to walk along barefoot, were absolutely gorgeous, and there was no tsunami!
It was on this tour that we first heard of kauri trees. Native only to New Zealand, this almost extinct species has special significance to the country, and the aboriginal Maori. Kauri are a tree that is very slow-growing, but grows very tall, with no branches, hence no knots, for 50 feet or more. They are also very resistant to insect infestation, as they shed their bark annually. When first discovered, they were a natural source of masts and spars for the Royal Navy. By the end of the era of sailing ships, the kauri had become almost extinct, and are now completely protected, There are reforestation schemes. But because of the slow growth, these will not see mature trees for many more years.
Back to Auckland, a clean-up at the hotel, and then back to the harbour area for our dinner cruise on a 50 foot yacht. Here was the first glitch in our pre-booked arrangements - the location we were given for checking in closed before we got there - fortunately we had checked out the scene before, and knew exactly where to go instead. The dinner was excellent, poached salmon, and fresh vegetables, as well as appetizers and dessert; more amazing because it was prepared in a sailboat galley.
After dinner we continued to sail around Auckland Harbour, and those who wanted got a turn at the helm of the boat - unless some miracle happens, my only time controlling a sailboat that size. As we returned to our mooring, we were buzzed by a Zodiac, in control of a number of obviously drunk teenagers; our skipper, after radioing the harbour master and ttelling us that nothing what so ever would be done about this incident, introduced us to New Zealand libertarianism - if you had the money to buy a boat of any kind, there were no tests, no licencing, no need to know the rules, and there were no laws to stop you from doing anything whatsoever. (Sort of like Canadian gun laws.)
And so to bed; tomorrow we begin the pre-booked portion of this trip.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
There's plans, and there's what happens
January 31, 2010
We duly left, taking Airways Transit from Waterloo to the airport.
We had made our “Stand-by” booking paying extra for the higher priority and also Business Class if available. At Pearson airport in Toronto, while waiting to board, we realized for the first (but not only) time that travelling through Vancouver near the time of the Winter Olympics was not our brightest idea. Oh, there was lots of space in Business Class to start, but Air Canada, in a public relations move, had promised Canadian athletes travelling to the Olympics they would be upgraded to Business if there was space. So, in the end, we watched a rather large number of very fit young people boarding the front of the aircraft, while we hauled our old bones into the back. But, it’s only 5 hours, so what.
We hung around in Vancouver airport for about 8 hours waiting for the flight to Sydney; people watching was quite interesting, as the airport was in high gear, with volunteers welcoming athletes and officials flying in for the Olympics. However, after a while even that got boring, and after eating super we ended up simply reading until it was time to go to the departure lounge for the Sydney flight. And here again, the plans weren’t quite what happened. There was plenty of seats in Business class, but we watched as traveller after traveller showed up with upgrade certificates, and moved from hospitality to business. That doesn’t change the number of empty seats, but it shifts them to the back. In the end, we flew 14 hours, Toronto to Sydney, in Hospitality, not quite what we had hoped for, but, we got there. And yes, even 14 hours upright is manageable; beyond eating, there is movie watching, and even sleeping, even though not well.
February 2, 2010
We arrived in Sydney on February 2 (it’s that International Date Line thing - there is no 31 Jan 2010 in our lives) in the late morning. Wisely, we had booked ourselves into an airport hotel, rather than continuing on to New Zealand the same day, as we were somewhat bagged. After finding out where the hotel “Super Shuttle” departed from, we hauled our bags there, probably 500 metres in the Australian Summer sun, on a rough sidewalk; not so “Super” a shuttle in my opinion. And I mention the rough sidewalk, as in the hauling about half the rubber “tire” on one of my suitcase wheels got scrubbed off, leaving it with a rather lurching gait for the rest of the trip. But, we duly transferred to the Ibis Hotel-Airport, got to our quite expensive (roughly $160) but very small room, which also had a very dirty carpet, and very quickly collapsed into deep sleep for about the next 7 hours.
We got up at dusk, headed downstairs, and discovered that the downside to this hotel was that it wasn’t near anything. We also didn’t have the energy to want to go very far, so we hit the dining room for supper, starting with a carafe of the house wine. That was the best thing we had. June ordered a pasta with a “home-made chicken and wild mushroom sauce” while I settled for the “organic greens with grilled chicken and home-made herb dressing” salad. The pasta might have been cooked that day and re-heated, and the sauce was a glutinous mess that might have started life as a mixture of cream of chicken and cream of mushroom soup; my salad was basically iceberg lettuce shredded, the chicken might have been grilled at some time in its life, and the home-made dressing was an incredibly good imitation of Kraft’s Ranch. I picked out the chicken, June picked out what seemed to be edible, and when I went to pay the bill, a not inconsiderable Oz$50 (C$60 or so) I complained to the totally disinterested cashier, who knocked off the pasta and half the chicken salad from the bill. (This is one of the by-products of the Australian insistence on no tipping - tipping establishes a one up one down relationship, and Australians are not interested in that, but as a result no one in a restaurant is the slightest bit motivated to provide good service, or cares whether or not themanagement makes money.) After the culinary disaster, we went back to our room to catch up on the rest of our sleep.
February 3, 2010
We got up quite early, as we needed to get back to the airport by about 7:30 a.m to continue on to Auckland (with the usual 3 hour international check-in requirement). With some fear and trepidation we went into the dining room for the included in the rate breakfast, buffet style, which turned out to be surprising good. So the Ibis scores down on room cleanliness, and is a tie on food quality - but we would probably not stay there again unless absolutely forced to.
We had listed ourselves stand-by to Auckland on Emirates, Quantas, and Air New Zealand, to ensure we would get there on Feb 3, as we had hotel bookings from that day on. Emirates might come as a surprise, but was a suggestion from our travel agent. Emirates flies twice daily from Dubai to Sydney, and then on to Auckland, with the second flight to Christchurch. Of course most of the passengers get off in Sydney, and very few people think of Emirates as a way from Australia to New Zealand, so there is usually lots of room. As indeed happened for us; we had no problem getting seats. And then the usual wait in a departure lounge that we were in before the aircraft actually arrived. It was hot and stuffy for about two hours, and then got quite pleasant; that’s when we realized that Sydney airport had zonal controls on its air conditioning, they only cool an area when it is reasonably expected to be occupied - our mistake was heading there too early, rather than hanging out in the central area until the aircraft actually arrives.
The flight to Auckland was a pleasure. We were on an Airbus 380, the currently largest passenger aircraft. Even in Economy the seats were larger than we are used to in North America, the entertainment system was fantastic (think of not just watching first run movies at your seat, but being able to duty-free shop on your personal screen), and the food service was what June tells me was the standard on Air Canada in the 1980s. A very pleasant three hours from Sydney to Auckland.
Immigrations and Customs in Auckland was the usual firm but polite examination that one expects down-under. They are especially firm and polite about making sure that one is not importing anything that might want to grow, reproduce, or take over parts of the eco-system. No fruit, no plants, but also no wood products that might carry parasites, etc. And also, they make very certain that you are just visiting, have means to support yourself while doing so, and definitely intend to leave again.
As you walk out of the customs hall, there is a large poster showing a pastoral scene with Hobbit holes, familiar from the 1st Lord of the Rings movie, announcing “Welcome to Middle Earth” - just don’t bring any critters or plan to stay, I thought. But, why not trade on the familiarity of New Zealand scenery from the movies.
The first order of business was to get into Auckland, as the airport is a considerable distance from the city. There is a shuttle bus, but it only does defined stops, none of which was near our hotel. But we talked to the booking clerk, who assured us that we would be dropped at a cross roads, from which a free city bus would pick us up, and drop us just by our hotel. We duly did that; I’m still not sure that the second bus was the one we should have been on, but we did get on, and did get dropped off, with a friendly pointing down the road, where, sure enough, about 150 m on, was our hotel. So we wheeled our suitcases downhill, mine with it’s pronounced wobble from missing half a wheel, and duly arrived at the Heritage Hotel-Auckland, and were checked into a very lovely room, almost a suite, in a heritage building that was once an department store.
It now being later afternoon, we did a clean-up of ourselves, and set out to do some exploring, and find some supper. The Heritage is not that far from the harbour area, so we headed basically downhill, until we found water, and then looked around. Auckland is called the “city of sails” and it is easy to see why, boats, mostly sailboats, are moored everywhere. Boats of all sizes, from modest dinghies to Americas’ Cup yachts are all around. And, the harbour scene jumps, with lots of restaurants and nightclubs, full of people having a great time, on a Wednesday night! (And once again, when in a harbour city that has a waterfront that is alive and vital, I thought about what a waste Toronto had made of theirs; instead of people, Toronto has condos.)
After a check around, we ended up in a restaurant in the Auckland Ferry Building, on a balcony, looking out over the harbour. We had an excellent seafood meal, and an excellent bottle of New Zealand wine; it wasn’t cheap, but given the quality, value for money. And, since New Zealand menus list the price of a dish inclusive of taxes and service charge, with no tipping expected, there was no nasty surprise at the end; what you ordered you got at the price listed.
Then a pleasant walk back through the pleasantly warm night to our hotel; and so to bed, ready to tackle Auckland in the morning.
We duly left, taking Airways Transit from Waterloo to the airport.
We had made our “Stand-by” booking paying extra for the higher priority and also Business Class if available. At Pearson airport in Toronto, while waiting to board, we realized for the first (but not only) time that travelling through Vancouver near the time of the Winter Olympics was not our brightest idea. Oh, there was lots of space in Business Class to start, but Air Canada, in a public relations move, had promised Canadian athletes travelling to the Olympics they would be upgraded to Business if there was space. So, in the end, we watched a rather large number of very fit young people boarding the front of the aircraft, while we hauled our old bones into the back. But, it’s only 5 hours, so what.
We hung around in Vancouver airport for about 8 hours waiting for the flight to Sydney; people watching was quite interesting, as the airport was in high gear, with volunteers welcoming athletes and officials flying in for the Olympics. However, after a while even that got boring, and after eating super we ended up simply reading until it was time to go to the departure lounge for the Sydney flight. And here again, the plans weren’t quite what happened. There was plenty of seats in Business class, but we watched as traveller after traveller showed up with upgrade certificates, and moved from hospitality to business. That doesn’t change the number of empty seats, but it shifts them to the back. In the end, we flew 14 hours, Toronto to Sydney, in Hospitality, not quite what we had hoped for, but, we got there. And yes, even 14 hours upright is manageable; beyond eating, there is movie watching, and even sleeping, even though not well.
February 2, 2010
We arrived in Sydney on February 2 (it’s that International Date Line thing - there is no 31 Jan 2010 in our lives) in the late morning. Wisely, we had booked ourselves into an airport hotel, rather than continuing on to New Zealand the same day, as we were somewhat bagged. After finding out where the hotel “Super Shuttle” departed from, we hauled our bags there, probably 500 metres in the Australian Summer sun, on a rough sidewalk; not so “Super” a shuttle in my opinion. And I mention the rough sidewalk, as in the hauling about half the rubber “tire” on one of my suitcase wheels got scrubbed off, leaving it with a rather lurching gait for the rest of the trip. But, we duly transferred to the Ibis Hotel-Airport, got to our quite expensive (roughly $160) but very small room, which also had a very dirty carpet, and very quickly collapsed into deep sleep for about the next 7 hours.
We got up at dusk, headed downstairs, and discovered that the downside to this hotel was that it wasn’t near anything. We also didn’t have the energy to want to go very far, so we hit the dining room for supper, starting with a carafe of the house wine. That was the best thing we had. June ordered a pasta with a “home-made chicken and wild mushroom sauce” while I settled for the “organic greens with grilled chicken and home-made herb dressing” salad. The pasta might have been cooked that day and re-heated, and the sauce was a glutinous mess that might have started life as a mixture of cream of chicken and cream of mushroom soup; my salad was basically iceberg lettuce shredded, the chicken might have been grilled at some time in its life, and the home-made dressing was an incredibly good imitation of Kraft’s Ranch. I picked out the chicken, June picked out what seemed to be edible, and when I went to pay the bill, a not inconsiderable Oz$50 (C$60 or so) I complained to the totally disinterested cashier, who knocked off the pasta and half the chicken salad from the bill. (This is one of the by-products of the Australian insistence on no tipping - tipping establishes a one up one down relationship, and Australians are not interested in that, but as a result no one in a restaurant is the slightest bit motivated to provide good service, or cares whether or not themanagement makes money.) After the culinary disaster, we went back to our room to catch up on the rest of our sleep.
February 3, 2010
We got up quite early, as we needed to get back to the airport by about 7:30 a.m to continue on to Auckland (with the usual 3 hour international check-in requirement). With some fear and trepidation we went into the dining room for the included in the rate breakfast, buffet style, which turned out to be surprising good. So the Ibis scores down on room cleanliness, and is a tie on food quality - but we would probably not stay there again unless absolutely forced to.
We had listed ourselves stand-by to Auckland on Emirates, Quantas, and Air New Zealand, to ensure we would get there on Feb 3, as we had hotel bookings from that day on. Emirates might come as a surprise, but was a suggestion from our travel agent. Emirates flies twice daily from Dubai to Sydney, and then on to Auckland, with the second flight to Christchurch. Of course most of the passengers get off in Sydney, and very few people think of Emirates as a way from Australia to New Zealand, so there is usually lots of room. As indeed happened for us; we had no problem getting seats. And then the usual wait in a departure lounge that we were in before the aircraft actually arrived. It was hot and stuffy for about two hours, and then got quite pleasant; that’s when we realized that Sydney airport had zonal controls on its air conditioning, they only cool an area when it is reasonably expected to be occupied - our mistake was heading there too early, rather than hanging out in the central area until the aircraft actually arrives.
The flight to Auckland was a pleasure. We were on an Airbus 380, the currently largest passenger aircraft. Even in Economy the seats were larger than we are used to in North America, the entertainment system was fantastic (think of not just watching first run movies at your seat, but being able to duty-free shop on your personal screen), and the food service was what June tells me was the standard on Air Canada in the 1980s. A very pleasant three hours from Sydney to Auckland.
Immigrations and Customs in Auckland was the usual firm but polite examination that one expects down-under. They are especially firm and polite about making sure that one is not importing anything that might want to grow, reproduce, or take over parts of the eco-system. No fruit, no plants, but also no wood products that might carry parasites, etc. And also, they make very certain that you are just visiting, have means to support yourself while doing so, and definitely intend to leave again.
As you walk out of the customs hall, there is a large poster showing a pastoral scene with Hobbit holes, familiar from the 1st Lord of the Rings movie, announcing “Welcome to Middle Earth” - just don’t bring any critters or plan to stay, I thought. But, why not trade on the familiarity of New Zealand scenery from the movies.
The first order of business was to get into Auckland, as the airport is a considerable distance from the city. There is a shuttle bus, but it only does defined stops, none of which was near our hotel. But we talked to the booking clerk, who assured us that we would be dropped at a cross roads, from which a free city bus would pick us up, and drop us just by our hotel. We duly did that; I’m still not sure that the second bus was the one we should have been on, but we did get on, and did get dropped off, with a friendly pointing down the road, where, sure enough, about 150 m on, was our hotel. So we wheeled our suitcases downhill, mine with it’s pronounced wobble from missing half a wheel, and duly arrived at the Heritage Hotel-Auckland, and were checked into a very lovely room, almost a suite, in a heritage building that was once an department store.
It now being later afternoon, we did a clean-up of ourselves, and set out to do some exploring, and find some supper. The Heritage is not that far from the harbour area, so we headed basically downhill, until we found water, and then looked around. Auckland is called the “city of sails” and it is easy to see why, boats, mostly sailboats, are moored everywhere. Boats of all sizes, from modest dinghies to Americas’ Cup yachts are all around. And, the harbour scene jumps, with lots of restaurants and nightclubs, full of people having a great time, on a Wednesday night! (And once again, when in a harbour city that has a waterfront that is alive and vital, I thought about what a waste Toronto had made of theirs; instead of people, Toronto has condos.)
After a check around, we ended up in a restaurant in the Auckland Ferry Building, on a balcony, looking out over the harbour. We had an excellent seafood meal, and an excellent bottle of New Zealand wine; it wasn’t cheap, but given the quality, value for money. And, since New Zealand menus list the price of a dish inclusive of taxes and service charge, with no tipping expected, there was no nasty surprise at the end; what you ordered you got at the price listed.
Then a pleasant walk back through the pleasantly warm night to our hotel; and so to bed, ready to tackle Auckland in the morning.
Friday, January 29, 2010
We're off to New Zealand
We are off on Sunday (Jan 31) for a lengthy trip to New Zealand.
The planning is as follows:
- leave Toronto for Vancouver at 14:00; arriving 16:18;
- leave Vancouver for Sydney, Australia at 23:45
- arrive in Sydney at 10:15, February 2nd
- overnight in Sydney
- to Auckland, New Zealand on February 3rd in the morning, airline to be determined; the joys of flying standby
After arrival we have booked an itinerary through Goway Travel, the same company we used in Australia in 2004. We've combined a number of their city packages with two of their self-drive packages, and we will be touring effectively all of New Zealand, North Island and South Island, in just about 4 weeks.
On the 2nd of March we will leave from Christchurch, to fly to Sydney, from there to Vancouver, then Toronto, arriving at about 4:15 the same day, only about 30 hours in transit.
I will post to this blog as often as I am able, although probably only in outline form - to be fleshed out when time permits. However, do check in if you want to keep up with us.
Alternatively, you can "follow" me on Twitter, by following Twitter name "presbyter180641" - I will not tweet every few minutes, but will update what is happening perhaps 2 to 3 times daily.
The planning is as follows:
- leave Toronto for Vancouver at 14:00; arriving 16:18;
- leave Vancouver for Sydney, Australia at 23:45
- arrive in Sydney at 10:15, February 2nd
- overnight in Sydney
- to Auckland, New Zealand on February 3rd in the morning, airline to be determined; the joys of flying standby
After arrival we have booked an itinerary through Goway Travel, the same company we used in Australia in 2004. We've combined a number of their city packages with two of their self-drive packages, and we will be touring effectively all of New Zealand, North Island and South Island, in just about 4 weeks.
On the 2nd of March we will leave from Christchurch, to fly to Sydney, from there to Vancouver, then Toronto, arriving at about 4:15 the same day, only about 30 hours in transit.
I will post to this blog as often as I am able, although probably only in outline form - to be fleshed out when time permits. However, do check in if you want to keep up with us.
Alternatively, you can "follow" me on Twitter, by following Twitter name "presbyter180641" - I will not tweet every few minutes, but will update what is happening perhaps 2 to 3 times daily.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
October 2009: Adventures in Car Renting!
This post really completes the last one on May 21! On returning our rental car, the Avis employee inspecting the car noted a small scratch on the front bumper shell, and despite a lot of verbiage about no charges without my permission, added €177.43 to the rental bill, for which I signed. It was only when I got home, and reconciled expenses with estimates, that I found this excess charge - yes, it was detailed, but not exactly in noticeable type. Also, my rental contract with estimated charges was in Cdn$, the bill in Euro, and the midst of a car return garage, unloading luggage, is not the best place or time to do rapid currency conversion - although I'm learning, in future I will do exactly that!
I duly reported this damage to the Amex insurer, which covers this cost if the rental was charged to an Amex card offering such coverage, which mine does. I also reported to them the details of the damage as I had seen it.
Much to my shock and surprise, one week after return I received a letter from the unnamed and unsigned "Station Manager" and mailed not from Frankfurt but Avis Germany head office, indicating that I had returned their car damaged, that the damage was in excess of €750, and that as soon as the exact cost was determined, my Amex card would be charged the appropriate amount. The last paragraph suggested that in future I could limit such charges to €75 by purchasing Avis' damage insurance; clearly whoever initiated this letter was not aware enough of the rental contract to know that my own insurance through AMEX covered 100% of any damage charges.
Attached were badly reproduced, on an ink jet printer, small size (about 3" by 4") photos, showing the car I had rented, the speedometer reading (correct), and the front bumper in close-up with a note "front left spoiler scratched." The photos however showed "damage" much greater than the small scratch I had been seen, although on close scrutiny, on badly reproduced photos, it might have been visible. What was very obvious were four large patches of pure white, with no detail that would suggest scratching, as if the paint had simply been removed from these areas. Except, I checked with a neighbour who is an auto body mechanic, who told me that he had never seen a bumper shell or cover in which the underlying material was pure white; usually it is grey or black, sometimes a dirty yellow. Further, the day prior to turning in this car, we had driven through several severe rain storms, on secondary roads, and it was apparent even from these photos that the car was quite dirty, in fact I apologized to the agent checking us in for that. Yet, these white patches were absolutely pristine, and as I noted above, absolutely feature-less, showing no surface detail whatsoever. And more, checking a high resolution photo of this car taken during our trip, it was obvious that his "damage" was on the convex bumper shell in areas that had surface that was further forward on the bumper than the "damage." It was very difficult to come up with any mechanism of contact with anything that would leave the area in between these white patches unmarked.
After I had climbed down from the ceiling I contacted the Amex insurer, told them what had happened, and they asked me to mail in the material received from Avis, and that they would deal with it. They also assured me that whatever I was charged, they would cover it. I did so, followed by about two months of silence, from all concerned. I then got back to the Amex insurer, who by this time had re-embursed me for the €177.43 charge, to be told they had contacted Avis German with my objections to the charges, and had heard nothing back. They also noted that according to the contract I had with Avis there was no time limit to additional charges to my credit card (which they would cover) unless I could get Avis to sign off. I duly wrote Avis Germany, asking that this matter be settled, attaching my objections as I had submitted them to my insurer, and asking them to provide the original camera files of the damage pictures if there were to be further charges. That produced nearly four months of dead silence.
In late September, I searched around on the Avis Germany website, and found a general "complaints and inquiries" e-mail address, to which I duly wrote. That produced an un-readable e-mail (looking at the gibberish, it appears that jpeg files were pasted into an e-mail, rather than attached. An e-mail back produced the same thing. A further e-mail produced in time a letter from what is probably a clerk within Avis Germany, apologizing for the late(!!!) response, and adding that the damage documents requested (I hadn't requested documents, but photos) were attached (I guess included, but we'll give some grace for language!) Then there is a paragraph explaining that I was only charged €177.43 for the damage, that the "station manager" letter I had received was an automated letter, which "sometimes ... is sent with the wrong damage charge information." Then an apology for the letter with the wrong damage information. And then, a note that the actual damage was €619.50, but they would not charge the difference. In other words, a letter that is internally not consistent.
Included were copies of the original rental contract, but not the return version. Also, in German, a Damage Report, which clearly indicates in words and by a car diagram, the small scratch that I had seen. No indication on this report of the "extensive" damage in the pictures. And then, a "Repair Costs Proposal" which adds up to €619.50 before taxes, but shows a final cost of €737.21 . Some of the costs shown are ridiculous for what was a small scratch; body filler applied with a spatula three times, almost $600 in labour, more than an hour of paint-spraying, for example.
Without imputing anything, if one searches around in travel magazines, travel literature, and on travel web sites (Google "car rental damage charges" for example), it is obvious that our experience is not uncommon, particularly for international rentals, when the renter is safely in another country and will find it difficult dealing with any charges suddenly levied on their credit card. Seemingly in such cases there are also charges beyond repair of alleged damage that appear; loss-of-use charges to cover loss of revenue for the period of repair - with no evidence that the vehicle actually could have been rented; and loss of value, a charge for supposed depreciation in the disposition of the vehicle at the end of its rental life, despite repair charges being levied for supposed restoration to "as new." One could support these depreciation charges for major accidents, which enter onto the vehicle's record, but they are being charged for minor damage such as paint scratches.
To defend against some of this
- never take a car without an inspection in the presence of the rental agent, noting all existing damage on the rental contract, and getting the agent to sign off on this;
- pay for the rental with a credit card that offers insurance of rental cars, and refuse the rental company's offer of a Collision Damage Waiver (CDW, which is not insurance, but only a limit to how much you will be charged for any purported damage);
- be aware of the details of your credit card's insurance; for example, some limit the amount they will pay for "loss of use" and "reduction in final value" of the rental car;
- at stations where you are simply handed the keys at the rental desk and told where to find the car (Frankfurt is one such station, but there are many more), insist that an agent accompany you to the car to make this inspection;
- if this does not happen, do not open the car or load luggage; take pictures of the car in its location (even an inexpensive digital camera is a good investment for this - make sure the date and time on the camera are set correctly for the location!), carefully inspect it, take pictures of any damage, and return to the rental counter and insist that an agent come and inspect the car with you; this is your right, not a privilege; do not move the car, if you do, you have taken responsibility for any existing damage;
- report any damage that you cause during the rental promptly to the authorities (if necessary) and to the rental company, and also to your credit card insurer, who usually require a fairly tight time limit, such as within 24 hours of damage, or as soon as practicable;
- on returning the car, follow the check-in agent closely during the inspection, and confirm any damage reported; take your own pictures of the car and any purported damage; also take a picture of the odometer; and make sure that the date and time of your camera are set correctly;
- at stations where on drops off the car in a parking lot without an inspecting agent present, take pictures of the car in its parking spot to establish location, and take sufficient close-ups of all sides to show that there is no major damage; if you have any doubt whatever about interpretation, or if there was damage present when you took the car, insist that an agent come and inspect the car and sign off on the condition report;
- if you are charged for damage that you believe you did not cause, dispute the charge with your credit card company, and ask the rental company to provide you with all documentation relevant to the charges levied, including pictures (original files, not prints) which you should be able to compare to your own pictures.
You may run into agents that object to having to do some of the above, but you are only exercising your right, and can politely point out that there is enough evidence of post-drop-off charges for damages that customers allege wasn't present that you are simply protecting yourself. If enough renters do this, perhaps the companies will decide to modify their policies.
To be fair to Avis, I also need to report a previous experience with Avis Canada in Regina, SK, which was everything one could wish for. We had a close encounter with a rabbit that suddenly jumped in front of our rental VW while we were going about 100 km/hour. It is surprising what damage a small animal can do; this totally destroyed the bumper shell at the point of impact, and, not visible to inspection, wiped out one of the car horns behind that part of the bumper. The damage was assessed at about $1200, and, because the destroyed horn was not immediately available in North America, the car was out of service for nearly a month. Throughout all this the Avis station manager in Regina was a model of what one could wish for, working with the Amex card insurer to get the claim settled with minimum work on my part. Documentation of the damage was supplied promptly (I did have my own pictures, and had also made a police report) and in the end there was no cost to me.
So, in terms of damage to Avis cars, we are 1 for 1!
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