Christian Perez's Travel Journal

Step 1 Steal underpants - Step 2 ... - Step 3 North Island, Thu Aug 10, 2006

After spending my entire trip on the South Island, I was a little scared to make the leap and cross into uncharted territory: North Island. It's funny how quickly we get used to the way things are and the familiar place and people your life starts to build upon. I know the South Island really well by now, and coming North almost feels like starting over. And it is all new in a way, and I have once again been disconnected from what I knew and the home I had made. I'm a traveller again.

We spent our next to last night on the South Island camped out on the beach in the rain. We were dead set on building an (illegal) bonfire, but had only picked up a few pieces of firewood and an axe from good old Swampy's Backpacker. While we were setting up the tent in the dark at around 9 pm, some cars drove up and settled in the carpark. We were a bit nervous for some reason, but I thought it was a bunch of kids out to do what we were trying. So I grabbed the wood and newspaper and found them on the beach...building a bonfire! We added our chunks and had a nice one going for a few hours, but is was really wet outside! We slept in till noon the next day because the rain just kept coming.

After only a week, we've made it halfway up the North Island. We crossed the Cook Straight on Monday(I think) and only spent an hour or so in Wellington. The crossing was uneventful; calm seas, but foggy and rainy so we couldn't see anything. The national musuem Te Papa in Wellington is really cool, though, and has a ton of awesome interactive exhibits and cool Maori artifacts.

We drove a few hours north to stay at a converted prison in Napier. Supposedly, the backpacker is haunted, and there are newspaper clipping posted on all the walls with accounts from people who say they had ghostly experiences. All very exciting, but sadly, I slept like a baby. I thought I heard a creaking noise once, but it was just Ben farting (I knew it cuz my eyes stung shortly thereafter.)

The next day was rainy, just like the one before, but we perservered and walked around the main shopping district. Napier is a really nice looking town. A while back there was a big earthquake that levelled the place, so the built everything back up in an Art Deco style, so everything looks kind of arty and retro. We walked around and did some window browsing, and I finally got my hair cut.

Then we took the Thermal Explorer Highway (no joke, thats what it's called) and arrived in Taupo that evening. Apparently, Tuesday night is a big night to go out, so I rounded up some people (and a girl from UC Berkeley of all places!) and we went to the quiz night at the irish pub down the street. We got second place with some science/nerd help from Ben and I, and I won keychain shaped like a surfboard for answering one of the quizmaster's "special" questions. Then it was upstairs to Holy Cow where people dance on the tables all night. I wasn't up for that, but we definately danced until they closed up at 3 am.

The next day was just perfect after 3 days of rain, so Ben signed himself up to jump out a plane and hurtle towards the ground at 200 km/hr, with some flips and spins thrown in just for the heck of it. Crazy bugger! Then we climbed a mountain. Yeah, no big deal, except I had only eaten 8 midget pancakes for breakfast (and that was it) and didn't bring any snacks with me. I was so hungry that I broke out into sweats and started hallucinating their was food all around. Gravel looked like chopped peanuts, like you put on sundaes, and bigger rocks started to seem like croutons. I thought my stomach would implode and my legs collapse, but I made it to the top, just in time to see the sunset over Lake Taupo with steam vents sending up, well, steam into the cooling night air. Ahh! Victory!

And then came the greuling decent in the increasing dark on narrow, rooty, and muddy trails. I basically ran down in 20 minutes what took me an hour to get up, and immediately ate a whole can of tuna with my bare hands as soon as I got in the car. Now, if that's not a New Zealand backpacker experience, then Kiwis can fly. (They can't, by the way, the little buggers are too fat.)