"Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection"
- Lawrence Durrell
Those aren't my words. I haven't heard them until I saw them on my friend's FB wall, but how true are they! This is the end, folks. The last post of the unduly-stretched travel log series. So brace yourself and read on.
After we missed the Karangahake gorge walk, we spent the next two days in Auckland. We rode to Goat Islands hoping to get some snorkelling action, but the weather Gods were blue and turned the sky grey. We still managed to have an okish good New Year's eve (I hardly remember how I got to bed, so that's proof enough). The next day we started our way up north. Unfortunately, we had to drop our dear friend who succumbed (in spirit) to his injury. After having booked a campsite in city A, we drove to city B assuming that we booked the campsite in city A. And this was the only campsite that we pre-booked for the entire trip. Oh, the irony! As we reaced city B, the beautiful Paihia in the Bay of Islands, we scrambled to find a campsite. After the usual routines at the new campsite, we prepared ourselves for kayaking the next day. I can't say I did not enjoy it, but the gloom of the road trip ending soon had chained my spirits from soaring higher than the bare minimum. Paihia is beautiful but we had neither spent the right amount of time nor had we visited the right places to have said that we enjoyed it.
The next day as we made our way to the notorious Hamilton, the best of Sunsets greeted us. Like all other campsites, the one we stayed in Hamilton too was found in the nick of time. The last few days got diluted in meaningless travel for me. I'd rather completely cut off north of Auckland from our trip if I were to choose now. Getting back, we woke up in Hamilton and rushed to Waikato where we went abseiling, caving, tube rafting, rock climbing and glow worm hunting. The rush was quite impressing. It was a befitting ending to the trip. The glow worms were innumerous and even with an injured wrist I managed to enjoy the caving. That was the second time I went caving and it was not remotely as scary as the first time but fun nevertheless. And from there we made our way to New Plymouth via the forgotten world highway. The 150 odd Km stretch was a hidden treasure, hiding timeless pastures and valleys juxtaposing a meandering road that cut through hills offering unparalleled views all through. As we neared New Plymouth, Mt Taranaki soared to the skies.
Once we reached New Plymouth, the sea beckoned us with its cheery waves and the red dusk Sun made it all the more warmer. After slight hesitation, we got into the chilly waters which washed away any remnants of bad experiences of the trip and sealed the trip's place permanently in our hearts. We chose to hit a pub rather than visit the "festival of lights", which was our original intent. Drinks kept pouring and we laughed our hearts out. We even chatted up a bit with the pub owner. New Plymouth is a happy little town. Just like Tauranga and many other tiny cities studded into the beautiful NZ landscape. We headed to the beach afterwards with our hot noodle cups and sat in silence for a while, letting the brackish breeze kiss our lips one last time before we retired for the day. We woke up the next day to ride back home. And just like that it was all over as suddenly as it started, staining our minds with beautiful images and experiences that only NZ can offer.
Aroha ahau ki a koe Aotearoa..
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