Day 21: Mount Maunganui

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april 28
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In the morning I get a text from nigel. The company he was working for didn't extend his contract, so he won't have the funds to do the motorcycle trip. This means there is no pressing need for me to be in auckland on May 2. Since I am pretty well hidden from the road, I'm not worried about being discovered so I sleep in a bit. That is, until I hear noises from logging rucks. Man, I hope I don't get crushed by a falling tree or something. I resolve to go investigate, and it turns out that a couple of trucks are parked right across the street from where I will be exiting the bush. That sucks, I'd rather slip out unnoticed. Nevertheless, I get sick of waiting around since it's still quite wet, so I pack up, get my bags to the side of the road and then carry my bike over. I drag it all across the street to lean it up against the fence for ease of mounting the bags on the bike. I'ts quite difficult since the fence isn't very stable. I usually prefer to use a picnic bench or a tree or something but there's nothing like that around. Also, it turns out the fence is of the electrical variety and I get shocked a couple of times. Yay. Did I mention it's raining as well?

Progress is still difficult, but at least I've had a night's rest and I know what's ahead of me. I can hear running water as I pass the gorge area again, perhaps a river or a waterfall? I would try and get a better look but it's a steep fall to my left. Finally the road plateaus, and it's fairly flat for awhile, except now it's pouring down. It's quite miserable, really -- I do have thin plastic overpants that I picked up for the tongariro crossing but they got snagged on rocks a few times so they have big holes in them, and hence don't help much. I'm pretty cold, so I duck under a tree, reluctantly remove my gloves and have a bite to eat (a couple of peanut bars) and drink some water -- why I don't know, I've probably swallowed a liter of rainwater through my nose already. I notice a bunch of brown beer bottles and heaps of trash right where I am, and I'm a bit disappointed -- I've been doing my best not to litter here. Kiwis have a beautiful country and I don't want to contribute to ruining it.

I ready myself for more of the deluge and head out again. Before you know it a station wagon slows down in front of me. This time I'm pretty grateful. "Are you allright?" the driver asks. "Eh, I've had better, where are you going?" She's going to Tauranga, which is not really a surprise, Pyes Pa is the "Tauranga Direct" road. She tells me to throw my bike in the back on top of the single mattress. I don't want to get the mattress all wet, but she says not to worry about it. I hop in the front seat, quite aware of how soaking I am. Lucie's very nice though, a youngish mum of three, and we have good conversation. "Don't worry," she says, "I'm not dangerous -- except on weekends!" She points out all the sights on the side of the road, like pukeka, a black bird with a white breast and a red crown like a rooster. She used to live in Wellington back in the day, and we talk a bit about how courtenay place has changed over the years. It wasn't nearly as built up then as it is now, there was maybe one bar and a few shops. Within minutes of her picking me up, the weather already begins to clear.

She actually winds up taking me to Mt. Maunganui, which is just north of Tauranga and closer to the water. She drops me off in front of her husband's workplace right across from the New World, I thank her and head off to get some groceries. A few minutes later I see her again in one of the aisles.

I book into Cozy Corner campground on Ocean Beach Road, and chill out on the sand for a bit with a bottle of white wine. To the northwest is the mountain the town is named for:

Called Mauao by the local Maori and steeped in legend, the 232m extinct volcanic cone is largely covered in a "cloak" of trees, currently part of a million dollar restoration project. The mountain supposedly affords spectacular views of the area, If I'm still here tomorrow maybe I'll go up for a look. First though, I want to see if I can find out about any fruit picking jobs in the area. Right now there's supposedly a high demand for kiwifruit workers, and since I'm short on money and don't have to be in Auckland by May 2nd anymore I figure I'll try my hand at some agricultural work.

So I go and explore the town, a lazily idyllic assortment of shops and houses sandwiched between Pilot Bay to the southwest and the South Pacific to the Northwest; Mt. Maunaganui is actually built on top of a sand bar. East of the Mount lie several small islands, Moturiki and Motuotau.

I pop into a backpackers in the town and call some numbers on the job board, but it turns out there's no work after all. In that case I'll start heading out to the Coromandel tomorrow. I find a copy of Down Under by Bill Bryson, an travelogue on the arid country-continent to the west, and appropriate it since it appears to have been laid there for the purpose.



Back at the campground, I enjoy some crumbed sausages while I sit on the steel bench and read Down Under, bottle of wine in hand. Bryson's absolutely hilarious, and since I won't have a chance to visit Australia this trip I might as well experience a bit of it vicariously. You know, I always thought I'd visit Oz first.

Always have a reason to go back.