Head North

Wed–Dec–27

The Christmas Bank Holidays are now out of the way, during which time I did very little, apart from:

- Thoroughly wash my riding jacket – which needed it, as this chore had been neglected since the start of the British summer and there were some very grubby black edges forming around the cuffs and neck-line areas, plus it was starting to smell a bit, well, ‘pooh-ey’ too;

- Plan my travel itinerary for the whole of next month (Jan ’07), with more than a little gratefully received help from John J who lives in Otematata, South Island, during a couple of extensive late night Skype-telecons; and

- Again watched the new 2005 version of ‘King Kong’ on Sky Movies (TV), with Mark, precisely 359 days – almost to the hour – since we first saw it together in a Whangarei cinema multiplex on News Year’s Eve last year.

Growing a little bored with doing so little, I quickly decide that it’s time to head north for 2-3 days, and just see what comes my way. With the decision made I’m up early and away on SH1 – yep, that trunk road again – by shortly after eight o’clock in the morning.

An hour later I’m officially in the Far North District of Northland, North Island.

After yet another hour I’m passing through the Township of Kawa Kawa and my groaning tummy reminds me – with a series of internal tickly noises familiar to us all – that I have yet to break my fast; because of course, I haven’t eaten a darn thing since the late afternoon of yesterday, Boxing Day. So I pull into a derelict railway station that has been converted into a charming little just-off-the-road café called the “12·03”, which has cleverly managed to retain much of the original station’s authenticity.

I approach the counter, where once the ticket office used to be, and ask the attending waitress for a straight filter coffee, with some cream … please.

“Would that be loike a fleat woite coffee?” – she enquires, looking rather puzzled.

It then strikes me that there is the possibility of a misunderstanding going on here.

So just for a bidda fun, I then conjure-up my very best Cornish accent: “Buggered if I knaw” I reply, “zounds ‘bout the same, l’es gim’n a go.. shell’us? – ‘ere, an’ I’ll ‘ave one a they there gert big choc’lut buns wid’n .. an’all”

Five minutes later, outside in the balmy morning’s summer air, I’m served-up with the most splendid combo of a large cup of freshly ground white coffee, with a still warm-from-the oven chocolate muffin plus a side helping of soft unsalted butter (unusually) thrown into the bargain. Notice how a Kiwi fern, or similar type of foliage, has been skilfully sculptured into the creamy white froth – a nice touch, I thought at the time.

Yet clearer to me still is that we had indeed just overcome a potential language barrier!

After inspecting the Station’s facilities still further I’m back on the road by 10:45am.
(I know – I know, that’s just slightly more information than you actually needed, right?! .. ;o)

Following a couple of hours more pleasant countryside riding, I eventually see the distant Mangamuka Mountains come into my view on the far horizon. This had a special significance for me, as on Monday January 16, earlier this year [‘06], we drove through the Mangamuka Gorge in Mark’s cage on the way to Cape Reinga, the farthest most northerly point of New Zealand. I made a small promise to myself at the time that, one day, I might perhaps return to the Mangamukas and ride through the Gorge on two wheels. Well, my chance to do just this was now staring me smack-bang in the face.

Around twenty minutes later, I had reach the foot of the Mangamuka Gorge; a 13 km stretch of the twistiest tar-sealed curves, possibly anywhere in the world. Inclining between around 10% - 15% on the way up, and 5% -10% down on the other side of this barrier mountain range, which eventually leads SH1 onto the very, very far north of New Zealand’s North Island.

My memory of the Gorge had indeed been spot-on .. wow! – What a 5-star ride!! .. :o) :o) :o) :o) :o)

I think that I need to video tape this super riding experience, just for the record. I hope I get the chance.

But sadly the weather has beaten me yet again, as by lunchtime dark clouds start to form overhead. Another weather front has set in for the rest of the day. This area of reminds me so much of Cornwall ... and why not? – as the geographical features are very similar indeed – both regions being a virtual peninsular, locked on 2-3 coasts by vast stretches of ocean.

I think it’s now time to call it a day. Fortunately, in view of the worsening weather, ten minutes later I’m passing through Kaitaia, which is the last significant township in the far north of NZ. I soon find a motel and book-in for two nights. The ‘Wayfarer Lodge’ offered me my own completely self-contained en suite ‘unit’ for just NZD $80 [GBP £29] per night... AND it’s located on the outskirts of the main shopping drag; AND it’s right opposite a pub too .. ;o). I promptly check-in with my newest hosts, Rose and Dave.

Quickly I then cover-up the Trannie, under the additional shelter of the upstairs units’ veranda-footbridge, just before the rain sets-in for the duration.

Now then, let’s go check out some of the local [a-hem!] ‘Amenities’ … ;o)

I make friends with a few of the native characters in the nearby Sports Bar, one of whom in particular – a voluntarily one-eyed Aussie feller called Roy – just felt the need to show-off his long grey braided pigtail to me.







But by seven PM – and forty bucks’ worth of premium Steinlager later! – I retire to the adjacent Beachcomber Restaurant and enjoy a superb helping of homemade mushroom soup, followed by a huge plateful of locally caught pan-fried scallops, all washed down with two nice glasses of crisp Muscadet.

Suitably fed and anaesthetised, I retire to my motel ‘unit’ and quickly fall into a deep sleep.

It’s been another memorable day.