Jamaica - No worries

As my wife and I decided before we left to disconnect as much as possible from the Internet while we were away (it's harder to do than you might think), I didn't produce daily posts while we were there, so this is mostly my scattered impressions of Jamaica and the Couples Tower Isle all-inclusive resort.

Staying at an all-inclusive resort, it was difficult to get a firm picture of the "real" Jamaica, as we didn't have to get out and mingle with folks on the street in the towns and cities, never shopped at a grocery store or "native" shopping center, and only interacted with Jamaicans whose main job was to make the tourists happy - tourism is the country's #1 income producer, ahead of bauxite mining and agriculture. And a very finely tuned money machine the tourism industry is, with no effort spared to part the hapless visitor from their cash. In an utter about face from what I've seen in other places, the resort gift shop was actually the most economical place to buy souvenirs of all sorts - even prices at the duty-free shops in the airport were up to triple the prices we saw there. I was simply amazed, as well, at the number of shops and restaurants in the Montego Bay airport - attempting to get every last penny out of those soon departing the country.

Despite the crass commercialism of it all, our interactions with Jamaicans were unfailingly positive and polite. Everyone offers a cheerful greeting and parting, a friendly smile, and mostly exhibit an attitude of "No problem, mon".

A small island with over 3 million inhabitants, Jamaica is a country of stark contrast - amazing ocean view villas stand side by side with tin shanties, sleek luxury cars roll down the coastal highway, while schoolchildren in uniforms walk on the road's shoulders, and five star restaurants vie with jerk shacks for trade. A tropical paradise for visitors, it may seem a prison to those who will never get an opportunity to rise above manual labor or a place in the tourist service industry.

This was our first stay in an all-inclusive resort, and it may very well have spoiled me for any other type of vacation. From the moment we got past customs, the Couples organization saw to our every need. Red Stripe beer flowed freely in the Couples airport lounge, as we waited about a half hour for the rest of the afternoon's guests to arrive, and then we and our luggage were whisked away to a bus for the two hour ride to Tower Isle, where we were greeted with rum punches and welcoming smiles, and our luggage was whisked away to our ocean view room.

From that point forward, the only thing we had to pay for was a pedicure and full body massage at the resort spa (and there are packages available where those services are also included). Full body massage - drooling incoherent relaxation! Worth every penny. Every meal at all every one of the six restaurants on property was included - from snacks and smoothies to burgers and jerk, to five start dining experiences and boundless buffets. I won't describe all of the food available, but will note a few new experiences.

Jerk chicken, pork and sausage, of course, were tasty, smoky, spicy and truly delicious. The smoked marlin, akin to smoked salmon, which I discovered on the lunch buffet the first day, became a daily staple for me - just wow! Curried goat - surprisingly good, but watch out for the bones - they roast the WHOLE goat. Sorrel fruit juice, tangy and very refreshing - probably filled with antioxidants. Desserts were daintily portioned, which made it far to easy to succumb to multiple temptations. Creme Brulee was available daily - killing me slowly.

Room service menu available 24/7 for no extra charge. We only indulged the first morning, since I wasn't sure I was going to endure until the restaurants opened, given my tendency to wake early, even on vacation. Other than that it was the Patio buffet every morning, and most lunches, unless we wanted a particular item such as the marvelous gazpacho soup at the Veggie Bar, or to grab a quick bite at the Pool Grill, where you can make yourself a frozen yogurt cone or a plate of nachos, and grab a quick soda or (great grapefruit flavor) Ting soft drink while dripping from a swim or a round of pool volleyball. 

The ambiance of the Bayside restaurant was like nothing we'd ever had, and both the Verandah and Eight Rivers restaurants provided a five star multi-course elegant experience. Here's an area where you could get tempted into paying a little extra if you want something off of the "imported" wine list. The Dom Perignon champagne I can understand, but I had a good laugh at the Kendall Jackson California vintage for $50 a bottle and the Kim Crawford New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc for $45 (I have a bottle in my wine cooler at home that was $9.99 at Costco). The party at the table next to us at Eight Rivers bought two! The house reds and whites from Frontera winery in Chile were perfectly acceptable as the all-inclusive options.

Customize your mini bar in the room. Whatever you need would be stocked daily in your fridge. This was really a waste of time for us, as there was so much free booze flowing at the bars, from Red Stripe beer to blended drinks to tropical concoctions like the Bob Marley and the Deep Blue Sea - all FREE! Top shelf liquor? No problem, Mon! No extra charge for the good stuff. Love a shot of Rum Cream in your coffee? The bartender will hook you up with a generous glass to take back to the room and keep in your fridge for a delicious addition to your morning pick-me-up.

My wife and I are pretty moderate drinkers, but I'm afraid too long a stay here might turn us into serious lushes. From mimosas and Bloody Marys on the breakfast buffet to late night brandies around the pool, the alcohol flows freely and abundantly.

Tons of activities included, from golf to tennis to waterskiing, paddle boarding, sailing Hobie Cats, playing bocci, volleyball on the beach (standing joke was "losers buy the drinks") or in the pool, ring toss, trivia games. Take a tour on a glass bottom boat, hop a ride out to the au naturel Tower Isle, party for the afternoon on a catamaran, climb Jamaica's famous Dunn's River Falls. There's a game room with board games, pool table, ping pong and a library, a nicely equipped gym, a piano bar singalong, martini parties on the rooftop.

It's really hard to remember (might have something to do with the free booze) all of the things going on, and we didn't even hang out for the late night festivities. We did hear a fantastic steel drum band one night, and the beach party on Monday had some amazing island drummers, dancers, jugglers and acrobats.

We got a couple of hour long painstaking and patient tennis lessons from Collin, the pro. Enjoyed private water ski shots in a calm cove one morning before the late night revelers awoke with Captain Marvin. Had a wonderful guided nature walk around the grounds with Robby. Enjoyed a cooking class, preparing fish with coconut sauce with Chef Bibbibbib (don't ask me). Entertainment director Alex was a charmer.



Bottom line, Couples all-inclusive resorts are money well spent if you really want to relax and enjoy yourself, headache free - aside from the hangovers.

Costa Rican Impressions

I had long been wanting to go to Costa Rica to visit. Most of the people I have known who have gone there have raved about the experience, so I my expectations were high.

Now, I may have selected the wrong location in Costa Rica to visit; the beach town of Tamarindo, though my wife and I also booked some tours that took us away from there, and it was a fair drive from the airport in Liberia, so our impressions might be indicative more of the Guanacaste region than the whole country - but I was somewhat disappointed with my trip, and probably will not ever return.

YMMV

The Good

The Costa Rican people, or Ticos, were extremely friendly and helpful wherever we went. We had no negative interactions with any of them, really.

The food was very good; we never had a bad meal. For the most part, the selections made great use of fresh local produce and fruits, and at least allegedly, of locally caught seafood, though we saw no evidence of a fishing port or productive fishermen nearby, so for all we know it could have been frozen elsewhere and shipped to Tamarindo.

Our favorite place to eat was the NOI Bistro, which had fantastic ceviche. The Flying Bull was delicious, but upscale in ambience and price. The Shrimp Hole was very good and far more casual. The Green Papaya was fun. La Esquina had awesome pizza and a play area for kids. The Breakfast Grind was good, with tasty breakfasts and machaca burros and quesadillas and the cleanest restroom in town.

Speaking of fruit, we feasted every morning on fresh papaya, avocados, pineapple, a variety of bananas, melons and mango. The avocados were perfectly ripe - the entire bin at the store, not merely one or two out of dozens - and of "jumbo" size, creamy texture and smooth rich flavor.

The fresh squeezed orange juice offered in many local restaurants was wonderful, and the "lemonade" made from fresh squeezed limes and cane sugar was like nothing I'd ever tried before. The same concoction, spiked with the local casique liquor and with a splash of club soda, was called a Guaro Sour, and was very good, too.

We also encountered a Golden Sangria drink at the Night Market on Thursday which was spectacular.

The apartment where we stayed was clean, quiet, comfortable and well-equipped.

WIFI was everywhere, in every restaurant or bar where we spent time, and usually of sufficient bandwidth

The weather was absolutely perfect, sunny and warm. The only downside was a near constant gusty wind. On the flip side, the humidity made us shower several times daily, especially after walking back from the downtown/beach area to our apartment.

Although I had stocked up on insect repellent wipes, we didn't have any major issues with mosquitos. The only pests that got to us were some fleas that either made the jump from the horses we rode, a stray cat stropping our legs, or some tall grasses on a path we walked to our apartment.

Excursion highlights - ziplining, watersliding, "contrabando" moonshine made from sugar cane, sunset on the catamaran, coffee made in a sock, "dinosaurs" in Filadelfia.

The Bad

I had always heard that the cost of living in Costa Rica was very low, but this simply wasn't true for groceries, even locally grown produce and fruits. In Tamarindo at least, without renting a car for transportation there was no way to get to a larger supermarket than the handful of mini mercados that seemed to service the tourists. The most egregious price-gouging was for a tube of sunscreen, which was sold for a minimum of $20 US, and on up from there. Other than that, most prices seemed comparable to stateside, and the shelves were filled with U.S. products for the tourists.

Personally, we enjoy "going native" at the local stores, on our travels, and that seemed a little more difficult to do than in other locales. The only farmers markets were on Saturday mornings, aside from the "Night Market" mentioned elsewhere in these impressions, so we never got the chance to shop small, really.

The rest of the souvenirs and goods available around town seemed to be either made in India or China, and we never really found much that we could be certain was made in Costa Rica by Ticos or indigenes, apart from some cool pottery we saw on one of our tours.

The "street" vendors were ubiquitous and annoying. Every five minutes, if you were sitting on the beach, someone would walk up to you and try to sell you something - usually the same something they had tried to sell you just a little while ago. The goods ranged from knockoff "native" pottery to sunglasses, whistles, jewelry and "coco pipo" (coconut with a straw to sip the milk), to weed, blow and "I can get you anything you want". So much for peace and quiet on a tropical beach. You couldn't walk anywhere without someone trying to get you to ride in their taxi, join their excursion, buy something they barbecued, etc. This started the moment we left Customs at the airport.

Costa Rica is one of the richer nations in Central America, but poverty is all over, the streets are often unpaved or in poor repair, there are no shoulders to the roads, and certainly no sidewalks. Trash is scattered everywhere and no one seems to care enough to stoop and pick it up, despite all the ECO propaganda in the country.

We weren't the only ones to report that many of the toilets in even the best locations were not able to handle flushing toilet paper, but required that used paper be placed in a wastebasket. This is a shocker to most Americans. Also, we were totally unable to find any public restrooms (outside of bars and restaurants) or changing rooms near or on the beach.

The Curious

While Costa Rica is also touted as being a wonderful place for wildlife viewing, I didn't find it particularly productive in that regard. We booked a "river safari" in the Palo Verde National Park and wildlife refuge. The boat never went more than about 200 yards either up or down the Tempisque River in the refuge, and while we saw a few creatures new to us, like capuchin "white faced" monkeys, several species of heron, a pygmy kingfisher, a scarlet macaw, some bats, and a few skittish crocodiles, the "volume", so to speak, was far far less than I had expected. The guides were very pleasant and helpful, but quite frankly I see far more wildlife from my balcony at home most days. On our other excursion, we saw a few toucans and a parrot. I had really been expecting a ton more wildlife, but perhaps that's only available in other areas of the country.

The largest iguanas I have ever seen were not found in the wild, but in a public park in the village of Filadelfia. Most of them were over six feet long, fat and happy. I was given to understand that they feast on the leftover fruit from the outdoor markets, and are the unofficial mascots of the area.

Costa Rica has its own problem with illegal immigrants from Nicaragua, who "do the jobs Ticos won't do". Unemployment there is said to be near 40%. I felt sorry for our Nicaraguan gardener at the apartment, until it became obvious that he was attempting to scam us out of cash with his stories.

Liberia's International airport is about half the size of Boise's airport, and seems to handle a ton of traffic.

We were hard pressed to find any authentic Central American music. Everywhere we went, American Top 40 music from the 60s through 80s was blaring.

P.S. Blogger is misbehaving. If you want to see some of our photos, just check my facebook page.

There's no Toilet Paper by Doug Lansky, ed.

So, I picked this one up thinking it was going to be some funny travel stories, like we all have, and was disappointed to find that it was a series of stories by professional humorists, like Dave Barry, and sarcastic travel writers, like Bill Bryson, and not merely humorous anecdotes regarding travel mishaps and misunderstandings. "Too over the top".

La Serenissima

After a hearty breakfast in Portenone, we drove a short way down to Sacile to take a train into Venice. We got off at the main station, and grabbed a all day vaporetto (water buses is the only way to describe them, really) pass at a handy tobacco shop and then did a fast fade off into the old Jewish quarter, where we surmised that the crowds would be lighter, as most tourists head directly to St. Mark's square, the Doge's Palace, and the Grand Canal. A very successful strategy, actually.

The crowds were nearly non-existent in that part of Venice, and we were able to stroll about looking at little shops and just inhaling the atmosphere of this unique city. We managed to wander into some mostly residential areas along the northern edge of things, where we saw the little old grandmothers making their way home from shopping, trattorias packed with smoking locals, and a great little kosher grocery where we picked up a bottle of prosecco and four plastic cups to keep us from being too parched on the way out to the island of Burano.

Venice was first established in the swamps of the coast by the merchant princes in the 6th century to provide a very efficient machine for separating tourists from their money, and it retains those ancient traditions to this day. There are a zillion shops filled with kitsch, African street vendors illegally selling knock off Prada, and more than enough high end legitimate shops hawking local wares to give you reason to leave home without your American Express. Burano lace and Murano glass were ubiquitous, but most vendors are touchy about photos, so you'll simply have to come and see these amazing and exquisite creations for yourself some day.

We enjoyed late lunch in Burano at Su E Zo of sea bass, salmon and calamari, talked with local glass makers whose families have been in the business for centuries, and very charming little old nona in a lace shop. 

The day was too short to really see it all, so by the time we made it to St. Mark's the museums had closed, and we didn't get a chance to see them, but we had a marvelous dinner by the Rialto bridge on the Grand Canal at Cafe di Saraceno with a water side table where we got to watch the gondolas go by with their cargos of lovers, young and old. Spaghetti a la Vongole, Broiled Dorado, Beef Steak with Peppercorns, a couple of nice bottles of Chardonnay, capped by a boat ride back down the canal to the train station again made it a most memorable day.

Frommer's Washington DC Day by Day

 One of the things I really like about the Day by Day series by Frommer is that they contain several sections with lists of the "must-sees" in a particular city, sorted by whether you have just one day to spend there, two days, or three days. This really helps to prioritize things when you're visiting. They also have some other sections sorted by interest. If you're an art lover, you can focus on the artsy or cultural attractions. If you're a history buff, the museum section will help. There is a special section for attractions for kids, and another for outdoorsy folks.

Of course, these days, one of the best things you'll find, compactly, in these sort of travel books, are the URLs of important sites you can bookmark and visit as you prepare for your trip, or even once you've arrived. I always try to grab a handful of these out of each travel book I check out. This particular version of Frommers' guide is a pocket version, and even contains a city map that may be handy, and will certainly mark you as a tourist when you whip it out on the National Mall.

I highly recommend the Day by Day guides, in general, and this one in particular, to anyone getting ready for a visit to a new city.

Tents and Tent Stability by Chris Lown

 The first day spent recovering after recent surgery, I found a nice get well card from my Mom, and a copy of Chris Lown's delightful travelogue, with a note taped to it, "Prescription: Take as needed to stay recumbent as you convalesce." Great idea! Thanks, Mom!

When middle-aged, cantankerous Chris Lown's wife gets the opportunity to go on a Caribbean cruise with her best friend, he decides he should fill the time during her absence with a trip of his own, tent camping in each of Germany's sixteen states. His journey is described in Lown's chatty, humorous style, with a great attention to detail, seasoned, perhaps, with a dash of hyperbole.

Lown decides in the first place not to spend the big bucks for a top notch tent for his adventure, settling for a cheaper and, in the end, far less durable model. The series of unfortunate events (sorry Lemony) that befall his shelter steadily and inexorably erode its stability and degrade its appearance to a truly sad state. At one point, after offending a group of late night musical pretenders at a campsite, his tent is vandalized when he goes off during the day by having the word "Schwanz" (look it up) written boldly on its flank, and Lown has to be creative for the next few days concealing the offensive word while staying at family friendly campgrounds.

Each of the states that he visits are thoroughly described, and left me thinking that I need to move Germany a bit closer to the top of my travel bucket list. At the conclusion of each visit, he also delivers a report on the best beer and cheese selection he encountered there. The only time he abandons tent camping for more comfortable surroundings is when is when he visits his friends, Jan and Sophia, on their farm near Wittlich, and when Jan meets up with him on Lown's last day in Cologne (Koln). I gave up tent camping not too long ago, after my back surgery, but even at my best, I doubt I'd have maintained my equanimity through some of the crazy things that happen along the way - I'd have (literally) pitched the tent and moved to an inn long before the trip was through.

This one's going on my shelves permanently, to use as a reference when my wife and I finally do visit Germany. A great read, filled with the best medicine, laughter.

Getting Out by by Mark Ehrman

 I think the wife and I have been watching too many episodes of House Hunters International. Surely, if families can just uproot their entire lives  on a whim and go to live in a foreign land, we can figure out how to retire to a warm and tropical destination, given a few years to plan it out, right?

Getting Out contains a wealth of information on all aspects of becoming an expatriot, from the financial to the political, housing to healthcare. After a meaty general introduction to the topic of leaving the U.S., for short or long term, there are individual chapters containing more specific details on over 60 countries, with their pros and cons, immigration policies, social and political situations, and costs of living. Each of those chapters also contains testimonials from folks who have actually made the leap, and are living in that country, describing their lives there, and the issues they have faced and overcome.

The last section of the book has a cornucopia of reference material, websites with resources written by and for expats. All, in all a good primer for getting out.

Final Thoughts on our New Zealand Trip

(I jotted some of this down a while back, and just rediscovered it)

One of the prettiest places in the world, the most hospitable and polite people.

While lodging prices appear to be comparable to the and other Western nations, the prices of food, both in grocery stores and restaurants, were amazingly high. Out of season vegetables were as much as ten times the price back home, while most other things seemed to be double or triple, in general, what we are used to. The most surprising costs were associated with seafood, which one would expect to be cheap and plentiful. The only exception were the local green-lipped mussels, which could be had in the groceries for around $3 a kilo, while in the restaurants a kilo went for around $20, steamed.

Interesting differences:

Takeaway food does not automatically come with condiments; in fact one may have to pay exorbitant prices for packages of tomato sauce or tartar sauce to go with fish & chips.

I didn’t see any fountain drinks in restaurants; it was always cans or bottles offered. They may have been available at McDonalds and Burger King, but I didn’t go in to check.

Public restrooms were generally clean and smelled of disinfectant, but there was still an appalling amount of vandalism and littering for a country which prides itself on being eco-friendly.

Many homes use filtered rainwater, stored in immense cisterns, as their primary water supply.

Due to eco-friendliness, local detergents seemed weak and powerless against greasy messes.

After a week or so of driving, I began to see the benefits of the roundabouts and after conquering ingrained habits, driving on the left side of the road posed few problems.

I think that the NZ media is, either by design, laziness, or by giving them only what boosts ratings, doing the people the same disfavor ours in America is doing us, feeding them diluted news and infotainment. The publicly available news channels seldom delivered anything of great import, and were mind numbingly repetitive, just like home.

LOL. I always over pack a bit, and come home and make notes of things not to bother with next time. However, this time I had a couple of things come in quite handy. I had a fairly extensive first aid kit in my carry-on that saved my bacon when I gashed open my leg in the San Francisco airport, while gathering my luggage. None of the airport staff had any idea where to find a first aid station or kit. Pitiful. The other thing I had packed was a compact LED flashlight for my wife and myself, and when we went to Hot Beach in the dark to dig pools and sit in them, they worked out well. That was the only time I needed them.

I could go back there...I could.

The Last, Longest day

Maraetai

We got things packed up, had a nice breakfast of yogurt, fruit, ciabatta and honey, and tried to drink up the last of the fruit juice, then headed out to the Howick Village Saturday market for a while. Saw a lot of interesting crafts and baked goods, picked up a few last minute gifts to take home with us. Still had some time to kill after we'd finished there, so we decided to go down to Maraetai beach and enjoy the sunshine. Went for a walk on the beach, sat in a café and had a great last meal of a lamb burger for me and a Thai beef salad for Michele, and watched the interplay of water, earth and sky for a while. Took a short drive up the Pacific Coast Highway, then we stopped by the farm in Whitford to say goodbye to Stu and Liz before we headed to the airport.

Our GPS decided to give us one last adventure, and took us on a crazy route that included a mall parking lot and a detour through a construction zone, where I had to have M shift a construction cone out of the way to get through to the other side, and brave a couple of one way narrow bits, but we were determined to get back to the car rental place one way or another. Turned in the car, caught the shuttle to the airport, then began the process of checking in and getting through outbound customs.

Boat ramp at low tide

Far too many hours spent waiting in the airport later, we flew out of Auckland around 7 PM. Air New Zealand does a really nice job, and they're one of the nicest airlines I've experienced, but it was still a horrendously long, claustrophobic affair. I really need to get wealthy so I can fly first class, with its extra leg room and comfortable reclining seats. Arrived in San Francisco around noon, local time, and worked our way to the customs/baggage claim area, where I managed to rip open a bleeding hole in my shin on a protruding bit of metal at the baggage carousel. No one there could successfully direct me to an aid station, so I rummaged through my luggage to find my own first aid kit (yay! finally came in handy to have packed this), and got a piece of gauze taped to it. My pant leg was soaked with blood, but I was wearing convertible, zip-off pants and removed the lower portions to wander the airport in khaki shorts, with dress shoes and brown socks, a most amusing fashion statement.

Breezed through incoming customs and took our bags to the re-check area. M and I took the opportunity to re-pack things, and put our duty-free items in the checked luggage, as well as all the cool weather clothing, but Law and Vicky didn't have room to shift theirs around, so they ended up losing two liters of liquid gold to TSA when it turned out we'd been sent outside of the secured zone and we had to re-encounter security to get to our outbound gate. SF airport did a poor job of marking the exit to the secure area, and there definitely should have been a way to re-check the bags that did not involve leaving the secure area.

Auckland on the horizon

Spent still more hours waiting, then boarded the plane and flew to Boise, arriving right on schedule. Picked up our luggage and headed to our waiting taxi - except he wasn't. They lost our reservation somehow and didn't have a taxi available for us, so we ended up walking home in 100 degree heat. Survived the final trek, and spent the next few hours getting things unpacked, with a wonderful interruption in a welcome home Facetime call from our daughter and her husband. We have lots of catching up to do around the house and yard, but it's good to be home at last.

Around the Firth

Thames at low tide

After a nice little breakfast of ciabatta bread and honey, fruit and yogurt, we ran a load of laundry, and went for a walk along the beach at low tide, like the rest of the senior citizens in the area. Seems to be a large community of retirees in the vicinity of Thames. Checked out of the motor lodge and drove north along the coastline of the peninsula. There is a town called Coromandel on the peninsula of the same name, and so on all the road signs, to avoid confusion, it is listed as Coromandel Town, and that's where we headed. The road along the water is simply incredible. Every time I think I've seen the best road for motorcycling ever, I find another one here. I have to come back someday and ride them all.

The road to Coromandel Town

Coromandel Town, itself, was not terribly impressive but its surroundings and the route made the trip worthwhile. We walked around the main street for a bit, looking in a few shops, but soon turned around and went back to the coastline. We paused for lunch at a place recommended by Liz at the motor lodge, the Waiomu Beach Café, and had a "light" lunch of mussel chowder and roasted potato wedges. The chowder was creamy and rich, and generously peppered with perfectly cooked mussels, and the potatoes were steaming hot out of the oven, with flakes of sea salt and a homemade aioli dip. Washed down with a Bunderberg creaming soda, it put a pleasant spin on the rest of the afternoon, which was made a bit melancholy by the lowering clouds and our return to the vicinity of the airport.

Waiomu Beach fare

We chose to avoid the traffic of the motorway north to Auckland and chose instead to negotiate the country roads on the west side of the Firth of Thames, and drove through little hamlets like Miranda, Wharekaya and Orere before turning slightly inland and encountering Clevedon where we browsed for some time at the Wool Shed, finally discovering a nice merino/possum cardigan for Michele to take home. Checked in to the Howick Motor Lodge a bit later and ended up having a fish & chips dinner from a takeaway place nearby. The tempura fish was decent, the hoki bites passable, but the crab sticks left something to be desired. Spent a quiet evening in our room, organizing our luggage.

Crossing the Coromandel

Overlook near Hahei

Got up in the morning, and had our diverse breakfasts, from fried apples to chinese honey sausages with scrambled eggs. A group effort got things cleaned up rapidly, and we got all the sheets stripped, bathrooms sanitized to mil-spec, counters washed, floors swept and vacuumed, and in short time had the beach house all buttoned up once again. We then caravaned out to the overlook near Cathedral Cove, near Hahei. Lawrence and Victoria left us at that point, as they weren’t up for the strenuous hike down to the cove. Michele and I and Vinnie and Karen took about 45 minutes to hike the trail, which has the curious property of actually being uphill in both directions – walk it sometime. The tui birds were warbling in the forest, and the weather was perfect for a stroll in the woods.


Cathedral Cove

The Cove was made world famous by its use as the setting for the children’s return to Narnia in the recent movie, Prince Caspian, and is characterized by its beautiful white rock cliffs and a magnificent natural archway. I didn’t see the Pevensies at all, but the rest of the scenery was incredible, and the trek in was well worth it. On the way back Vinnie and Karen decided to explore another cove trail, but M and I wanted to get on the road again, so we parted ways with them as well, perhaps to meet in Belgium some day.
We got to drive the winding road across the spine of the Coromandel peninsula in the daylight this time, and enjoy all the views, including one spot where you can see the Pacific Ocean on the left and the Firth of Thames on the right simultaneously. We hunted for a rumoured outlet mall in Kopu without success, then paused in a nice little café at the edge of Thames for a cup of cappucino before semi-randomly selecting a place to stay.


Evening on the Firth of Thames

We ended up at the Coast Motor Inn just north of town, with a number of cute little chalets facing the firth and overlooking lovingly landscaped grounds. The proprietors are super nice folks, and we got settled in rapidly. Our room had a nice kitchenette and a deck perfect for al fresco dining, so we drove back into Thames to explore the main drag and pick up a few groceries to enjoy there.
We dined on smoked mussels flavored with sweet chili or barbecue sauce, slices of sharp cheddar cheese, toasted ciabbata bread with soft bleu cheese, cucumber slices marinated in balsamic vinegar,  accompanied by an Oyster Bay chardonnay and finishing with sliced apples and kiwi fruit for dessert.

In Hot Water at Cook's Beach

The only other person on the beach. Truly!

After a light breakfast in the morning, Michele and I went for a walk down to the beach in the Te Whanganui a Hei Marine Reserve which covers the coastline here at Cook's Beach, the town. It is here that in 1769, Captain Cook set foot on the shores of Mercury Bay. It is here that in 2013, we set foot on a beach that had nearly the same number of people upon it as that day. As far as we could see, at 9 AM, it was us and one strolling old fellow. It grew to a total of perhaps a dozen by the time we were done with our walk, but I've never seen a beach so uncrowded in all my travels. Heavenly!

In case you thought I was fibbing

The upside to having a few more people on the beach was the nice conversation we struck up with an older woman watching her grandchildren frolic in the surf. Perhaps 15 minutes were spent discussing the beauty of this beach in particular, beaches in general, the enjoyment to be derived there, and what wonderful things grandchildren are. Some things are universal, no matter where you travel.

We continued on to the Purangi (it may mean estuary) at the end of the beach, then made our return trip through town, checking out the beach homes and surveying the shops and restaurants available. It being winter, they seemed to have a slightly casual attitude about hours of operation.

Whitianga Harbor

Back to the beach house, we found that others in our party had dispersed on their own beach walks, so we waited around a while until we could all gather again, then we drove down to the FlatMill landing and got on the ferry over to Whitianga. Whitianga's stores and eateries seemed a bit more serious about things, and it was much like coastal tourist towns anywhere, with some great souvenir shops, cafes, bakeries, and most important for our purposes, a supermarket set a couple of blocks off the main drag. Vinnie and Karen had volunteered to make dinner, so they busily gathered the right ingredients for Belgian spaghetti. We all stopped at a bakery and took the opportunity to sample some more meat pies. My steak & pepper pie was pretty good, and washed down well with a ginger beer.

One odd thought. Stu and Liz have a fair collection of National Geographic magazines here at the beach house. I was perusing one this morning, and it struck me as slightly ironic to be reading National Geographic sitting in a place one has read about in National Geographic.


 

Looking back toward Mercury Bay from Whitianga

Our town trip ran a bit longer than planned, so we decided to postpone the planned excursion to Cathedral Cove, but Vinnie and I and Michele wanted to still go down to Hot Beach at low tide. I had calculated roughly that it should be around 6 PM, but when we got down there around 4:30, it turned out that a) it wasn't until 7:30 and b) the shovel rental folks had closed their shop for the winter. At Hot Beach, at low tide, one digs a hole in the sand in a particular area and allows the natural hot springs there to fill your pool with steaming hot water to soak in. The vile and cruel folks at the shovel shop not only shut down, but they had the audacity to display their full bin of shovels just inside the glass front doors of the shuttered building. I walked across the road to the Moko Art Space gallery to ask a few questions, and its lovely proprietress, Sonya, was kind enough to hire us a shovel of her own (she lives above the gallery) and just asked that we leave it by the front door when we were done. So, we hid the shovel in the shrubbery by her car park, went back to the beach house where Vinnie and Karen prepared a tasty and satisfying meal for us all, then around 6:15, the three intrepid excavators returned to the beach, in the dark.



Hot Water Beach after dark

Fortunately, I had packed my headlamp and a couple of mini LED torches in the suitcase, so we were able to make our way with minimal stumbling down across the beach to the hot water area, where there was a rather large group of folks with the same crazy idea. We found ourselves a spot where the sands were hot, and dug like madmen. Eureka! The rumours were true, and we soon had a hole in which we could soak our weary legs and feet, if not one truly deep enough to soak whole bodies in. That would have required more beefy diggers and shovels, most likely. We spent an hour or so fighting the encroaching sea and silting sands, keeping toes warm and watching the moonlit seascape before we headed back across the sands to our waiting chariot, left our rented shovel on our benefactor's doorstep, and whisked home again. A truly novel experience.

Wai-O-Tapu

Champagne Pool

Had a nice breakfast of fresh fruits: kiwi, apple, grapes, mandarins, a toasted muffin and a bit of sliced cheese and salami, then packed up our stuff and headed to downtown Rotorua to meet up with the rest of the gang. Grabbed a flat white to go at Nando's and a bottle of their famous piri piri sauce, and got on the road south to Wai-O-Tapu, New Zealand's answer to Yellowstone.



Lake Ngakoro

Had a nice few hours wandering the park, looking at all of the bubbling hot pools, sintered terraces, craters, ink pots, and cauldrons, with names like the Devil's Home and the Devil's Bath, Thunder Crater, the Opal Pool and the Oyster Pool, Bridal Veil Falls, Frying Pan Flat and Bird's Nest Crater. Amazing what hot water and sulfuric acid will do to a landscape. Not as big as its American counterpart, it's a bit more manageable for a day hike, and there are no bison to beware of, nor grizzlies to fear (actually, New Zealand has no large mammals at all, which is a relief when driving the winding roads after dark). The day was sunny and clear, and the vistas stretched for kilometers. Two of the most striking stretched across faraway valleys, ending in a geothermal power plant's exhaust stack at one, and a dormant volcano at the other.



Hedgerows at 100 kph

We had a nice lunch, of meat pies and sausage rolls, in the visitor center, then did our bit to help out the economy by buying some souvenirs, too. Headed back to Rotorua to fuel up and pick up some groceries, then drove about 3 hours north to the Coromandel Peninsula and Cook's Beach, where Vickie's parents have their beach home. The route took us through some fertile farmland, divided by hedgerow upon hedgerow, which Michele tried to capture on camera. Some of them were merely a meter tall, while others were six or seven meters. Just north of Rotorua, there are some interesting hillocks dotting the land, and some of them have eroded away, to reveal gigantic granite monoliths inside.

After negotiating the longest, best set of twisties I think I've ever seen between Thames at the base of the peninsula and Cooks Beach on the far side, we got things powered up at the beach house and I prepared a communal meal of basil and tomato rice (not complex at all - Uncle Ben sells some interesting flavours here), Chinese honey sausages, tossed salad, and soft bleu cheese on baguettes, which was topped off by another dose of wedding cake for us all before we dispersed to our suites.

Awake now before the others, looking out over a beautiful bay, ringed by rugged mountains, a cup of creamy coffee steaming in my paw.

Going Underground

Raikuri

We all gathered in the morning for breakfast at the hotel. The "cooked" breakfast (as opposed to the continental) was two fried eggs, two hash brown patties, grilled tomatos and mushrooms, a breakfast sausage and two strips of bacon, in addition to everything you could eat from the continental. Fully stoked for a long day, we took the opportunity to avoid a rainy and windy day by going underground, first at the Raikuri cave, then the Waitomo Glowworm cave, then the Aranui Cave. Lots of beautiful rock formations, built by the dripping of water over time, in all of them. The glow worms were quite beautiful, especially on the final boat road in Waitomo Cave, and I even got to see a weta (giant cricket).

The cave trekking took up most of the day, but we decided that Law and I and Michele couldn't leave New Zealand without at least seeing a kiwi bird, so we drove to the Kiwi House in Otorohanga and visited the juveniles they have in captivity there. The rest of the grounds are also a quite interesting bird sanctuary, which afforded us the opportunity to see an lot of other native creatures without a trip to the bush. Photography of the kiwis is not allowed, but we got to spend a bit of time watching them and talking with one of the curators who feeds and cares for them. I'll share the image of the giant one we ran down in the car park (pronounced cah pahk).

After our kiwi experience, we headed off to Rotorua, driving through a bit of snow that was falling, and arriving after dark. A quiet night, spent trying to rest up from a bit of respiratory crud I've picked up along the way. Trying local remedies.

On the Road to Waitomo

Broncos fans are everywhere

We managed to get everything packed up and down to the car fairly quickly in the morning, then checked out of our apartment and drove to downtown Auckland to return a couple of books we'd borrowed from our first hostess. Back out to Whitford, where we stopped at a fruit stand and bought some grapes, apples and kiwi fruit, then out to Victoria's family's farm, where we joined the family for a wonderful brunch of waffles, bacon, fresh fruit, and scrambled eggs. Had a great time talking to everyone there, then Michele and I departed ahead of the rest of the convoy to blaze the trail south to our next destination, soon to be followed by Law and Vicky, Tanny from Brazil, Vinnie and Karen from Belgium.

Just a few rest stops and coffee breaks on the way down. The GPS began to give us troubles when we encountered new signals and roundabouts it didn't know about, but we muddled on through and arrived in Waitomo just after 4 PM. Got checked into the hotel, which was constructed in 1908, and is still owned and operated by the family who built it and who discovered the Glowworm caves here. Relaxed in our room for a while with a 42 Below Feijoa vodka and soda, until the rest of the throng had arrived.

The grand old lady

We all trouped down to the dining room, like Bilbo Baggins and his dwarven friends, and had a great meal. I had the fish selection, baked in parchment paper, with capers, and a mixture of baked potatoes, yams and kumara (a native sweet potato), while Michele had the risotto with chorizo. Got a chance to get to know the Belgian contingent better, finally, and we had a great time talking with Tanny about our respective experiences in Portugal.

Got to have a long soak in a tub in our room, the first one so equipped since we arrived, and it was marvelous to stretch out full length for a change. Calgon, take me away!

Wedding Day - Pakuranga and Maraetai

The boys from America clean up ok

The day began quietly and calmly as Larry and I and Michele got ourselves put together to face the big event. We drifted on down to The Humble Baguette around 9 AM and had a perfect breakfast of Baguette French Toast with Bacon (Law), Eggs Benedict on Bacon (me) and Eggs Benedict on Spinach (Michele). No one else in the place on a Saturday morning, so we were able to relax and just enjoy some time together. Went for a walk a block or so away to the public library's outdoor plaza and a nearby domain (public park) where there was a very complex skate park - deserted.

Back in the apartment, we were able to get our tuxes on. I discovered at the last minute that my grey socks were not going to work with the black tux after all, and Michele's brand new nylons had mysteriously crawled out of her luggage somewhere over the Pacific, so on the way to St. Marks we had to make another stop at the shopping mall for a pair of socks. A half hour early to the church, by design, Larry and I had to walk to a nearby restaurant and have a pair of samosas, meat-filled pastries; in this case curried chicken and curried lamb, just to tide us over until the reception later.



Spectacular! and so are the Botanic Gardens

The wedding was very beautiful, and everything went well. The Father who performed the ceremony was gracious and eloquent, yet down to earth. The bride and her bridesmaids were stunningly beautiful, and the groomsmen as handsome a set of rascals as you can imagine. After the ceremony and reception line (where I met and shook hands with so many wonderful people), the photographer orchestrated a photo shoot just outside, then the wedding party piled into a classic Jaguar and a sporty Mercedes and zoomed off to the Botanic Gardens for more photos. Back to our waiting chariots for a ride out to the Maraetai Beach Boat Club, where the reception awaited the bride and groom's presence.

We had a splendid meal of canapes and champagne, fine wine (the Oyster Bay Sauvignon Blanc was incredible) and entrees of peppered squid, antipasto, followed by a main course of rack of lamb or New Zealand Salmon served on a lemon mashed potato with a seasonal salad, followed by mini pavlova with raspberry couli and lemon tarts. Joy, laughter, speeches, toasts, fun conversations, and more as we gathered to celebrate Lawrence and Victoria's new lives together. Not too many photos to share, it was a day to be involved, not a tourist.

Muddling about in Manukau

Nando's

In case you thought I was joking about there being nothing in Manukau worthy of mention, Fodor's doesn't even give it a line in the New Zealand guide book I'm carrying. Our apartment is in a high rise building right next to a mall, and we have a panoramic view of the industrial area leading to the airport and south portion of Aukland's harbor. We went over to the mall this morning after breakfast to look around for a bit, didn't buy anything of note, except some shaving gel and cough drops, after lengthy consultation with the chemist.

Headed out to the grocery store to stock up the fridge, then on to another outdoor mall in Botany, and had a great lunch at Nando's. Michele had their piri piri chicken quarter, and I had a Portuguese paella with piri piri chicken breast on top. Spicy! Cruised over to Rainbow's End to see what sort of rides they have there, and what admission would cost. Not really any time to spare this weekend, though.



The Flying Moa

I drove over to the brother of the bride's house around 5:30, only being spun around in circles a few times by the GPS unit, and a small, hardy group of us sat around for a while, getting to know one another, and having a couple of New Zealand beers, then drove over to a restaurant in Ellerslie, The Flying Moa, where we enjoyed some massive plates of barbecue ribs. Food delicious, company convivial, the only surreal note was listening to the live musicians play Bad Moon Rising, American Woman, and a number of other blasts from Law's and my past. We headed out to a bowling alley and played a couple of games; it's obvious why none of us is on the pro tour, rather than working for a living. A low key bachelor bacchanalia, but exactly what an older groom and his groomsmen needed to relax before the big day.

South to Manukau City

Hundertwasser Toilets

The operative word for the day was green. Lots and lots of green, everywhere we looked. We popped over to the bakery and picked up a couple of breakfast rolls, with ham, cheese and fried egg inside, far far nicer than an egg McMuffin, and stood out on the beach watching the sunrise over the Bay of Islands, then checked out of the hotel and drove south, for the most part. We stopped in Kawakawa for a while to use the most interesting public toilets I've ever seen, the Hundertwasser Toilets. It was very odd taking pictures inside a bathroom, but it simply had to be done, and I was careful to wait until no one else was using them, of course.



Everywhere we looked was like this

Down the main motorway 1 to Whangarei, then cut across the island to the other side to the little town of Dargaville, where we wandered the main street for a while, searching for a farmers market which turned out not to start until much later in the day, but did manage to stumble upon a charity book sale, so I bought a couple of New Zealand cookbooks to play with when we get home.

TokaToka Peak

Zigzagged back the other direction, stopping occasionally for photo opportunities, returning to the motorway at Brynderwyn, and stopping for a pair of pies (chicken curry and lamb fry & bacon) and some ginger beer at the Swinging Cow Café. Chatted with the owner there a while, then zoomed on down the road again. Arrived in Manukau City, where we have an apartment booked for the next few days. There's little to recommend the area except its proximity to the airport and to some of the wedding venues, hence its name, Proximity Apartments. There do appear to be many many shopping malls nearby, and Rainbow's End amusement park, so we may be able to keep ourselves entertained between commitments.




The Swinging Cow

We got cleaned up, and I shaved for the first time in a week, which was especially painful due the fact that my shaving gel had dried up. After sufficient imprecations, the GPS unit spit out directions to St. Marks, where we met up with all the family and ran through the wedding rehearsal. Afterwards, we drove to Howick and had a fantastic meal at the George Bernard Shaw pub. Roast duckling for Michele, and bacon-wrapped Gurran (fish) fillets with steamed mussels for myself. After a couple hours of fun and conversation, it was time to come back to our apartment and crash.

Giants on the Earth

Hokianga Harbor

Spent far too much time driving yesterday, and probably will again today. Picked up a takeaway corned silver and sweet jalapeno jelly sandwich and a couple of Frank fruit drinks at the nearby bakery, fueled up the rental car, and headed up the road to the Waipoua Forest. Rural drive through rolling hills, fields of cattle and sheep, for the most part.

Stopped at Hokianga Harbor for a flat white and to get out of the car for a little bit to take some pictures. Amazing deep harbor that goes so far inland, I thought when we first encountered it that it was a lake, and had Michele searching the map for a lake to get our bearings. Quite windy there.



Tane Mahuta

Onwards to the forest. The road in was a fantastically twisty bit of tarmac, the kind that made me wish for a motorbike to test upon it, and we ascended into the coastal mountains rapidly. The first of the ancient Kauri trees one encounters is Tane Mahuta, Lord of the Forest, and it is so big it's hard to get perspective. I took several pictures, but none of them captures its true stunning mass. There are entire ecosystems living high in its branches. It's been alive since the time of Christ. The only things I could think of to compare its size to were a Greyhound bus and a 777 airliner, but even those don't do it justice.

We went on a forest walk to see a number of other examples of these trees, logged nearly to extinction in the 1800s, and saw the Four Sisters, as well as Te Matua Ngahere, Lord of the Forest, 16 metres around at the base! At one of our stops, we met a great couple from Southern New Zealand, and chatted with them for a while about our travels; they've spent time in the United States traveling, then ran into them again at the Four Sisters, and ended up keeping  each other company for the remainder of our visit, kindred spirits awed by the splendor and majesty of these mighty forest giants.



Near one of the "small" kauri

Ate our lunch in the car in a crazy hailstorm, headed back home around 2. Stopped for a few more photo ops along the way, and picked up some fresh Hokianga flounder to fry up for dinner. It was white, flaky, and delicately flavored, moist enough to eat with merely a squeeze of lemon.

Driving back to Auckland today for the wedding this weekend.



To the Treaty Grounds and Beyond

Whare Waka and Ngatokimatawhaorua

After breakfast in the morning we popped over to the Krumbz Bakery to check out what they had in the cases, and decided we had to get back there for lunch. We drove over a single track bridge to the Waitangi Treaty Grounds. For my American friends, this the equivalent to Independence Hall in Philadelphia which Michele and I visited last year. Huge historical and cultural significance.



Hobson's Beach

After extreme lawlessness of the whalers, sailors and sealers in nearby Russell grew too much to bear, the local Maori chiefs sent an appeal to the King of England in 1831, and he responded by sending his envoy, James Busby, to restore order in 1832. The Maori chiefs were eager to increase trade for technology with the Europeans, and to forestall foreign adventurism (especially by the French), Busby's successor, Hobson, worked to draft a treaty which would give the British exclusive rights, and guarantee the property rights and sovereignty of the Maori people. The treaty of Waitangi was signed on this location, and there is a huge celebration here every February 4th.



Maori Warriors

If you come to visit - and folks, I can't stress this enough - spring for the extra bucks to take the guided tour and experience the Maori Cultural Presentation. I almost skipped it, having already seen the MCP at the Auckland War Memorial Museum. The young lady at the counter wasn't really all that convincing, simply saying that different tribes had different dances and songs, but for some reason my normally frugal instincts failed me and I whipped out the wallet. This is a "must-see" if you are ever here.



Revered Ancestor

You can enjoy a short movie about the Waitangi Treaty in the Visitor Center, and enjoy a beverage or a snack while you're waiting for your tour to start. Our guide, whose name I can't hope to pronounce, met us just outside the center, and we began our tour at Ngatokimatawhaorua, the 35 meter waka, or war canoe, which was built for the centennial celebration of Waitangi Day in 1940, and which is taken out annually by 80 rowers and 40 spares, so paddle at a maximum speed of 13 knots around the harbor with other, lesser craft. It is a high honor to be one of the paddlers, and our friendly guide confessed that this privilege has so far fallen to his older brother, and he has not been able to row it himself, though he has trained for it arduously.


Having arrived early in the morning, our group consisted of ourselves, a nice family from Victoria Australia, and a pair of lovely ladies from Cork, Ireland. As we interacted with our guide, with us questioning him and him returning the favor, it was fun to see the diverse perspectives...except on one subject, the economy. The consensus from around the world is that there's a recession going on.



View from the Treaty Grounds

From the Whare Waka (Canoe House), we walked a short way to view Hobson's Beach, where the new lieutenant governor strode ashore, the treaty in his grasp, eyes flashing, boots polished...well, you get the gist. Onwards to the treaty house, where Busby and his family lived, and thence to the Whare Runanga (Meeting House) which was built as the spiritual, historical and artistic repository of all the Maori tribes. Traditionally, each Maori tribe maintains its own meeting house (used strictly for tribal functions, they lived in simple dwellings the rest of the time), but this one was commissioned by one of the Maori members of Parliament for all his people.


Through no fault of my own (though some may claim it was due to my obvious girth and evident prosperity as a provider for my people) I was selected to be the "chief" of our visiting tribe, to stoicly endure the martial challenges of the resident tribe, and to accept from them a peace offering and invitation to join them in the meeting house. I crossed something off my bucket list in pressing noses with a Maori chief, and had to deliver and off the cuff thank you speech to respond to his welcome. We were then regaled for about a half an hour with awesome displays of Maori song, dance, games and martial prowess.



Meeting of Chiefs

Michele and I then wandered the grounds for another hour or so, getting a better look at some things we'd breezed by, and checking out the luscious forested grounds. We popped back into town after that, grabbed a couple of meat pies from the bakery (mine was smoked fish, and hers was steak and mushrooms) and ate our lunch at a picnic table overlooking the Bay of Islands, with our guardian gull to keep the rest of the birds from bothering us.

We drove up to Haruru Falls after that, only about five minutes away. While pretty, and reasonably photogenic, it's not enormously impressive, but would be a good spot for a picnic at the park below, perhaps, and it appears they rent kayaks there in the summertime that you could take out on the river below the falls for a better view.

From there, we took a drive up to Kerikeri, Along the way, we stopped at a roadside mandarin orange stand and picked up a kilo of fresh picked, spray-free, ripe fruit. Kerikeri proper was very similar to the main drag in San Clemente (or probably any coastal tourist trap around the world), and so we poked about in a few of the stores, including one where we had a nice chat with the proprietor, a woman whose farm had been confiscated for redistribution by the government of Zimbabwe, and who came here to start her own woolen clothing shop. The merino/possum/silk blend is wonderfully soft and and soft on the eyes as well. Evidently possums are a huge problem predator here in New Zealand, and...well, making lemonade out of lemons and all that...


Haruru Falls

Just north out of the city, we arrived just at closing in the historical area, and had to settle for outside pictures only of the Stone Store, Mission House, and old Anglican Church there. Didn't get a chance to explore the Maori Village and pa (fortification) at all. Again, a marvelous park area for a family picnic, a footbridge across bubbling falls, and sailboats drifting at their moorings complete the scene.

Back to the motel, with a stop at the supermarket along the way for a few minor items, like toothpaste. Do you know how hard it was to avoid all of the Colgate-Palmolive brands? They own the world. Finally settled on a South African brand, MacLean's (probably a subsidiary after all). Relaxed in our room for a bit with wine, bread and cheese, then walked down the coast to the wharf, and popped in to 35 Degrees for a meal at a window table overlooking the harbor. We weren't terribly famished, so we settled for sharing a smoked fish and spring onion pate over toast and a pot of green-lipped mussels, steamed to perfection, with still more bread and butter, and a small basket of fries, accompanied by their homemade tomato sauce (a very delicate cocktail sauce).

Back to the room for a dose of CNN, a Calippo for dessert, and a quiet good night.