18 April 2009

What started as a mild bout of insomnia turned into a half-hazardly planned weekend trip to anywhere north of Auckland.
When I couldn’t sleep on Thursday night, I decided to look into some possible getaway destinations for the weekend. By getaway I don’t mean some flash B&B or a quaint countryside inn, but a $9/night campground. A $9/night seaside campground, that is. Whananaki Bay Campsite was our first destination.
Friday morning, we took the West Coast Scenic Highway through Hellensvile—beautiful country with roadside fruit and veggie stalls, posh vineyards and lots and lots of cattle and sheep paddocks. Then we met up with the main highway at Warkworth, then North through Wellsford to Whangarei. On the way we drove through some of the most stunning farmlands. Green, green, and more green! As far as the eye could see. Until it was blue, blue, and more blue!
In Whangarei we stopped for dinner at McMorrissey’s, a thoroughly Irish pub, complete with a foot-stomping fiddler, Angela-the-barmaid from County Tipperary, flashing neon shamrocks, and James Joyce’s Ulysses on a bookshelf above them all.
I’ve never tasted fish ‘n chips the likes of these, and I was pleased—for once—not to be the only patron enjoying her Guinness moustache. Looking back, I should’ve enjoyed a few more stout before we returned to the road. We drove 26km off the main highway toward the coast to Whananaki North and those 26km were hair-raising. I kept a firm grip on the dashboard as we took razor-sharp turns at a steep decline over and over and over again. In the dark. With no moon. Or stars.
When we finally arrived at the campground, I was shaking. Dean, the camp host, stuffed the last of his evening tea into his mouth and told me not to be nervous, ‘Cause if you’re nervous, you’re gonna make me nervous, an’ you don’ want me to be nervous. So I did my best to breathe deep.
Once inside, there wasn’t much for us to do. It was too dark to be outside (we weren’t allowed a fire), so we set up our beds in the back of the car and took turns reading Lamb out loud to each other before trying to fall asleep at about 8:30PM. (Great book, by the way, it’s by Christopher Moore – check it out.)
The next morning, we stumbled out of what can’t really be described as sleep, grabbed a banana and a granola bar, and walked 124 steps to the sea. No, the Ocean. The Pacific Ocean was right there beyond the soft, white sand. The waves were crashing fiercely as the wind whipped my hair around my face.
We stayed long enough for a couple photos and a few chilled steps out to sea before hopping in the car to drive back out the twenty-six deadly kilometers to Whangarei for lunch.
Café Narnia, complete with fur-coats and wardrobe, served dishes like “Aslan’s Breakfast” and “King Peter Burger.” There, I wolfed down a chicken burger followed by a flat white. But let me explain, in New Zealand, when you buy food at a café, it’s not like what you get back home. My burger had a whole, real, chicken breast marinated in Cajun spices. Slices of perfectly ripened avocado, as well as apricot chutney and brie, shared the bun with the chicken, fresh tomato, and lettuce. Perfection! Brandon had a creamy field mushroom and back-bacon Panini on brown with a plum chutney on the side. We love NZ cafés!
When we’d had our fill, we drove a few blocks to the entrance of a canopy walk which leads to the Whangarei Falls. You’d never know the 35 minute walk, which takes you through pasture-land as well as rainforest, is in the middle of the town. (Take a look at our facebook photos for more on this magical park.) But this stop was only a second-thought as we were headed for the Waipu Caves Walk twelve kilometers south of Whangarei. Unfortunately, this tramp turned out to be a dud. It was promising, though, starting in a sheep field in the middle of nowhere, the signs were clear: Waipu Caves. There were caves, but the walk was disappointing. After walking nearly an hour through farmers’ fields, hopping, then getting shocked by, electric fences, we found ourselves at one of the highest “peaks.” It afforded us a lovely view of the sea in the distance, but all we could think about were our burning thighs and throbbing hamstrings. So we descended.
Before leaving the Northlands, we spent a few minutes in the mouth of the Waipu Caves, spotting the bright azure lights of the glow-worms, marveling at how they really do look like stars.
But, our trip doesn’t end there. No trip is complete without a stop in a po-dunk town. The Town of Waipu and the bustling Scottish (?) Pizza Barn and a few pints of perspiring Monteiths put the finishing touches on our weekend away.
Now, we’re sitting in bed listening to the traffic on Great North Road. Brandon is uploading his 163 photos to facebook, stopping every few minutes to massage his thighs and ask me why they’re all tingly. If I’m lucky, I’ll dream of bleating lambs and lush green grass. But, if not, I’m grateful for my night-guard. Nasty sub-conscious that wants to torture me with nightmares of steep and narrow New Zealand roadways – bring it on!
Goodnight.