44) New Zealand – a surly immigration geezer and a few hot geysers...

  The four-engined Airbus (just enough engines I always think), is decreasing altitude and we're starting our descent into Auckland. There's nothing to see out the window, we've followed the night sky continuously from Chile. I've slept maybe six of the fourteen hours flight. That's pretty good for me.

I'm reading the landing card and customs declaration forms for arrival into New Zealand. The Kiwis have very strict 'Bio-security' laws. There are instant – and quite heavy fines for not declaring foodstuffs – there's a rule of thumb – if it can be eaten, declare it. Or else!

The immigration officer is a surly chap. He wants chapter and verse. How long am I staying? Where am I going? Why? What do I do in Spain for a living? (good question, that one – I thought). Do I have a ticket out of NZ? Show it.

Blimey – I'm only here for three days, at this rate I'll spend them all answering his questions. Finally he stamps my passport with a six-months visa. Still no 'welcome to New Zealand'. Miserable git.

Bio-security want to know about the packet of peanuts that I declared. They're sealed, so I'm ok to keep them. They ARE serious.

I have a long day ahead – it's only 5.30am. I'm couchsurfing in Rotarua tonight, but can't arrive at my host before 5pm. I have a rental car booked. It's the first time I've driven in nearly two months – since I had the mad crazy dash to make my plane from Malaga, which seems ages ago.

The car rental girl is very pleasant and gives me a choice of car – a Nissan thingamy. “Thought I have a choice” say I. “You do - a white one or a blue one” she says smiling. I like this – a droll sense of humour. We chit-chat for a while, she gives me a few ideas about where to see on North Island, hands me the keys and a map – and off I go.

Dawn is breaking as I head away from the Airport heading south. Almost immediately I pass those great American institutions - KFC and a McDonalds. There isn't much traffic about, apart from huge trucks – American built Kenworths and Macks. I momentarily wonder if I got on the wrong flight from Santiago and ended up in Los Angeles rather than Auckland. But I'm driving on the left – and so is everyone else, so I must be in the right country.

I decide to head for Raglan for no other reason that it's a couple of hours away, it's on the coast and I can't think of a better way to enjoy my first breakfast in NZ.

 The dawn mist gives way to sunshine as I'm cruising down Highway 1 towards Hamilton, where I'll turn east towards Raglan and the coast of the Tasman Sea. The scenery is not outstanding in a dramatic way, but comprises rolling green hills and small towns. It all looks very familiar – very 'English' and it's how I imagine England was in say the 1950's – clean, tidy, empty roads, considerate drivers. If it wasn't for the Maori town names – like Pukekohe and Ngaruawahia for instance – I could be driving through Sussex or Dorset.

I like it immediately – I'm already realising that I have made a mistake in my planning. To be honest, I wasn't going to NZ at all – just Australia. But the flight from Santiago to Sydney calls at Auckland and I thought it a bit stupid not to at least have a look. I'm already thinking three days isn't enough.

Raglan is a pretty town, nestled in a wide sweeping sandy bay with rolling surf coming in from the Tasman Sea. I have a wander around on the deserted beach, a few surfers are preparing their boards. I go prepare myself for a decent brekkie.

Heading out of Raglan I pick up a hitchhiker – that's something else that don't happen in England anymore. He's a Maori Sax player – heading down to Napier for a gig. I drop him in Hamilton, wishing I could spend more time with him.

I have a stop in the pretty town of Cambridge and then carry on down Hwy 1, eventually turning towards Rotorua on Route 5, which has the delightful designation of 'The Thermal Explorer Highway'.

A few stops here and there along the way and I eventually arrive into Rotorua late afternoon. It's a tourist destination alright – hot springs, geysers, bubbling mud pools. Oh and Maori souvenir shops and backpackers hostels everywhere.

No hostel for me though – I'm staying with a Couchsurfing host for one night. Now, I'm a great supporter of the Couchsurfing project and principle of sharing experiences, stories and hospitality. Unfortunately it didn't happen here. Remember – I've not been in a bed since I got up Saturday morning in Santiago and it's now Monday evening in NZ. That's a lot of hours and a whole lot of travelling.

I turn up as arranged – bearing a little gift of some chocolates from Chile. Well, what a strange family I'm with. No one really speaks, I don't feel very welcome and I'm not even offered a cup of tea! Honestly...

I decide that I'll make the most of a strange evening by going out. I can't sit around in almost silence all evening and I can't get away soon enough the next morning.

I'm glad I have prior experience of Couchsurfing – if this was my first time, I'm not sure I'd have done it again. Their references on the website are fine – so maybe it was a personality thing. I have no idea.

Oh well never mind, I'm heading to a Maori village and going to experience some 'Thermal Wonders'...

Comments

[Steve]

so Wozzer - where did you learn to write as well as you do - does it come naturally or do you put a lot of thought into it ? Do you review and amend and then repeat this process until it just flows - perhaps it's natural or maybe you spent years as a salesman making cr*p stuff sound good. You're doing a great job - I'm still reading your blog after all this time. You lost me around the time you switched blog hosts but you're certainly 'on fire' again now. Looking fwd to more - I really ought to go to bed though - have a 5am start tmw !

[Warren Garber]

Where did I learn to write?? I went to one of London's best Grammar Schools!! Well, learned a bit on the few days that I wasn't truant.

I make a few notes while I'm out and about, usually research some details - population, area etc online - then I write it while I'm thinking. It does just 'flow' from my mind as I write. I hope this gives it more of a 'conversational' style - although I am guilty of changing tenses and swapping between first and third person at times.

I think it makes the narrative maybe a bit more interesting though. So I'm glad to hear you're enjoying reading it - and for your positive comments.

Believe it or not - it takes around three hours to write an article, check facts, prepare the photo's - captions etc, proof reading and then publish it all. So at times it's a bit of a labour, but I'm glad to have it all down in writing as a record of the trip.