Author: Grant and Barbara

A mirror walk to get out of Nydia Bay, ending in Duncan Bay.  The eco-credentials of the excellent lodge may improve by providing jam in jars – removing the necessity to wash the plastic individual portions and separating the foil to tin waste.  Around the area you see how old boats and vehicles, in this former forest station, are left to become part of the countryside – you make call it junk heaps if you wish.

One fan tail lingers long enough to be captured on pixels.  Slogging uphill we meet on mountain bikes about to descend – a strange occupation. Duncan Bay is a haven for canoeists and sandflys. Barbara sheltered in the water whilst they digested my feet – though doing so sneakily so the lumps and itchiness only comes later.

We stop in Matueka for two nights with the luxury of a shared washing machine. Poor thing.

Is the fabulous Maori name for the Fan Tail, a wee bird that frequents todays Nydia Path, a 10mile saunter to our walk in (or boat in) eco-lodge destination. Most of the time is spent on undulating paths going over a saddle between bays and in lush forested/fern cover. The variety is astounding, as are the sizes they grow to.

We had stopped in Havelock en-route. Famous for mussels and the birthplace of Ernest Rutherford.  So far we have not seen too much evidence of a mass movement of people by motor home.  The Jucy Lucy variety look fun: Lucy certainly gets around.

Fording a few streams we arrive at the delightful Nydia Bay – First Class Carriage awaits.

Plenty of time to take in the changing landscapes, flatter and more limestone river basins.

This comes to a steep end at Wellington where the Australasia and Pacific plates meet. Great place to build a city. The Te Papa gallery illustrates the development of NZ and the forces at play. The land grab by the colonialists in the 1800s is only slightly less shocking than the illustration of the deforestation, started by the Maoris and driven to completion by settlers. That’s why we now enjoy NZ lamb, merino, wine….

Much amusement is to be had en route passing through the township of Bulls. For example, the signposting of the police station: constabull.

And then onto via a very smooth crossing to South Island. Confusingly, where we land is no further south than where we left.

Early morning departure to get ahead of the crowds on this popular 19.4km tramp. We didn’t get ahead of the weather though which descended in moist waves as we ascended. You can appreciate why the Maoris believe these peaks are sacred – and fight to maintain their dignity. The adult in me tut-tuts at the number of kids going along in trainers and no gear: so good they were enjoying themselves and to hear their laughter at the end.

The scale of the geological forces at play is hard to take in. The 45degree slither down one loose path is the most difficult of the undulating day.

The local chateau was our supper point. Faded glory hadn’t impacted on their beer prices: the only draught coming from the doors.

Short hop to Wai-o-Tapu, sitting gurgling on the top of one of the world’s biggest volcanoes. The largest eruption in the last million years was here. Not today though, so photos are of more prosaic geothermal pools and gurglings, with a pervasive H2S background.

Day started with a fantastic cafe breakfast. Back of beyond location and huge healthy choices. Set us up nicely so the digesting sounds were muffled by the mud pools. Before lunch in Taupo, which is preparing for this weekend’s Iron Man event (shame, missed entering), the voracity of the waterfalls (200000litres per minute) draining the crater are hard to take in.

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