Distance: 22km. Total: 766. Smell factor: 6/10 A farmer offered us a camp spot on his land. He gave us a lift in his ute.
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Distance: 25km. Total: 744km. Smell factor: 3/10.
Today was another random day. The walking was mixed grade and quite picturesque beside the river. Then, gradually, we began to hear the muffled noises of a rally track in the distance. Before long, the trail closely passed the track on the opposite side to the observer stands. Our presence could not have been more obvious. The next thing we knew we were being heckled and even challenged by the local motor-heads over the tannoy to have a go. Then, unexpectedly, I found myself entered into a race. I was handed some massive overalls (which I could have fitted into 3 times over), strapped into this dubious looking car, helmet smacked on my head and told to get going. "Put her in second and leave her in second" I was advised. At this point I did partially question what I was doing but then I remembered I do know how to drive, and, at least this car has a head gasket unlike my own. Off I went and I began to build the pace as I grew in confidence. I was overtaken and that sparked some annoyance so then I really pushed it, speedily holding the car around the muddy bends.. My brother would be proud. I was enjoying it so much I missed the final flag and drove an extra lap! Afterwards, the owner started releasing me from the safety belts. Causally he mentioned "I should have probably taught you how to disembark in case the car was alight and you burned alive". Yes sir, you probably should have. The Hobbit. Distance: 0km. Total: 719km. Smell factor: 0/10.
Seven big walking days was enough and we both needed rest. Mercer was not our usual rest location, it was essentially a grubby motorway service station south of Auckland but it would do nicely. We sat in the food hall with Ellen and Yens (the Belgians) for many hours, eating and chatting. We remained pitched at the local pub. As a result, our night was spent there and we became acquainted with the people of Mercer. We consumed copious amounts of alcohol and the consequences were rather catastrophic. Luke boldly strolled over to the DJ and volunteered us for karaoke. Bloody idiot. It must have been an horrific sight as us intoxicated Englishmen and two Belgians sang the Proclaimers. Needless to say, the locals loved it. Unfortunately, we had drawn too much attention to ourselves and I was then forced to dance with a lady wearing huge sunglasses and an unsavy likeness to Stevie Wonder; beggars cant be choosers I guess. By the end of the night we had attempted numerous songs. A fight broke out somewhere and that was our cue to leave. All in all, I blame Luke for that local experience. Likewise, the karaoke footage has been burnt. The Hobbit. Distance = 25km Total = 719km Smell Factor = 8/10
Having been bitten to hell last night by sand flies I woke up with the itchiest legs in the world, it looked like I had a bad case of chicken pox. This did give me a kick up the backside to get moving and take my mind off wanting to scratch my legs to bits. I am quickly learning that this trail is about managing pain rather than curing or preventing it. If it's not blisters it's sand fly bites, if not my knees then my ankles. Although my mind is in a good place my body is not enjoying this walking malarkey. It was back into another jungle today, it probably seems like over kill to call it a jungle but forest just doesn't seem to do it justice. It was steep going to start with and just to add a little spice to the walk there were a million vines crossing the track. The nimble little hobbit seemed to glide through these with professional level ease whereas lanky old me got caught by everyone of the sods, often looking like a daddy long legs stuck on a spiders web. Sometimes I could use brute force to push through but more often than not Tom had to come to my rescue (SEPARATE TENTS !!!). I thought this trip might give me a greater appreciation for nature but at this point I just wanted to burn down every tree in the forest. The rest of the days walking was relatively easy but the morning had drained me so when I asked Tom how long was left to Mercer (our end goal for the day) and he replied with 8km I could have cried. Instead I took my bag off and just lied flat out on the ground, having a silent strop just like a 3 year old. I trudged those last few hours in silence just trying to keep up with Tom, I would have definitely just set up camp there and then if it were not for Tom and the knowledge of there being a pub at the end. The last 2 km were particularly stupid as we walked through crazy long grass and along a steep bank; on which I fell over 3 times, whilst a nice smooth road ran parallel to us. We were greeted into this random dive of a town by a lady offering for us to camp in the pubs beer garden. We were skeptical to say the least, but once we saw another 4 tents of fellow TA walkers we felt much better. We had a few beers and two massive and surprisingly good pizzas whilst sharing trail tails with the other walkers. A much better end to the day than the beginning. The Turner. Distance: 22km. Total: 694km. Smell factor: 5/10.
Uneventful walking day today so pictures rather than words. Distance = 20km Total = 672km Smell Factor = 2/10
Matt dropped us off back on the track and we put in a few kilometres before we stopped for breakfast. The track headed back through a fairly steep forest to begin with but we smashed through it and found a nice cafe to have a rest at for a little while. It was all road walking from then on but they were nice and quiet so we made good progress. We passed lots of horses and Tom tried a couple of times to steal himself one so he could gallop his way across the country, unfortunately non of them were Shetlands so I don't think it would have worked for him. With few options for camping we walked very slightly off track to see the Huana waterfall and decided it would be a great place to pitch up. We pitched up hidden around a corner so as to avoid being moved on by any potential park ranger. It was a beautiful spot to relax at, although the water was far too cold for a swim it was perfect for washing some of our clothes. We were both brushing our teeth late in the evening when we looked round to see what looked like an eye staring at us. With slight nerves I shone my head torch in its direction, nothing there. So I switched off the torch and we realised it was a glow worm. Intrigued we went to find more, there were hundreds of them in the rocks around us. It was so captivating that I forgot I was brushing my teeth, twenty minutes later and with my tooth brush still in my mouth we had explored the area. Like little stars against the black back drop of the rocks and with the waterfall crashing away in the background it was a rather incredible place to brush my teeth. The Turner. Distance: 26km. Total: 652km. Smell factor: 4/10.
Our night in the airport was successful and we started the day well by re-supplying and eating breakfast. However, the day’s walking was horrendous. The trail was on the road most of the day. Most of it was unpaved, so cars and trucks hurtled towards us as we tramped down state highways for most of the day. To make matters worse I was being bullied by the strong winds. Luke didn’t seem to have as much trouble, but the gusts were unbalancing me and felt I would be road kill at any moment. This was infuriating, and made harder by the bleak and uninspiring surroundings. Around 5pm we escaped the outskirts of Auckland and entered countryside still following the road. Again, we were struggling to find a freedom camp. We doggedly marched on trusting a solution with present itself. That it did. A young chap called Matt pulled up in his ford falcon with scaffolding poking out the end and unexpectedly offered us help. Before long we were in his house sharing a beer with the most unlikely of trail angels. His Dad is currently attempting the TA and Matt was glad to help anyone attempting the same thing. Once again any pain or frustration of the day melted away and our good spirits returned. The Hobbit. Distance: 31km. Total: 626km. Smell factor: 2/10.
We lacked any fool proof plan for the day ahead. We had no good idea of how far to walk because we had no good idea of where to camp. The route was taking us out of the CBD and through a mixture of residential and industrial areas. Auckland was the first populated area we had encountered that required more than one walking day to surpass. This, combined with a lack of campsites and hostels beyond the CBD, was the trouble. A freedom camp seemed like our best option. Freedom camping is common in New Zealand but you have to be mindful of where to pitch. Some spaces have restrictions and private land is off limits unless you acquire permission. Our vague idea was to camp at a seemingly sparse area we had marked on the map. However, as the day wore on, the populated surroundings persisted and we became restless about finding a discrete pitch. Then, I had one of my better ideas; “Luke why don’t we sleep in the airport!?” Luke enthusiastically took to the idea. Problem solved. We were on our way. The result was fantastic. Auckland international airport was like a deluxe camping experience; Glamping at its finest. Everything was at our disposal. We proudly inhaled $40 of McDonald's (And no, you cannot judge us, because we earned it; the hikers hunger is real). We soaked up the free WiFi, utilised the free showers and arranged camp in our corner of the airport. There was no half halfheartedness in the setup. We boastfully pulled out our sleeping bags, blew up our mattresses and reveled in our genius as the rain began to lash against the airport. In reality, we looked homeless, but importantly, we felt epic. Distance: 26km. Total: 595km. Smell Factor = 5/10
It was an easy walk into Auckland and we covered ground quickly. We explored the gun placements and tunnels around the north shore before catching the ferry across to the CBD. We were in the heart of the city by early afternoon and hit the shops for a few bits we had been needing for a while. It was fairly successful but expensive and we found that New Zealand has a distinct lack of great, well made products. We grabbed some lunch and headed to the hostel. What a shite hostel! It was cheap (well relatively) so I guess you get what you pay for. We had to wait nearly an hour for the reception to open. Obviously, you would close reception at 3pm when most people want to check in. The chap on reception was a rude prick and the others in our dorm room had fully moved in so their crap was everywhere. Still, it would be a bed for the night. We headed back out as quickly as possible to find some food and alcohol. We ate at an Italian before finding an Irish bar offering free pool. It was $9 a pint but we took the hit and made good use of the free pool (The Turner wining 8-7). We picked up a few more beers on the way back to the hostel, passing some weird and wonderful city dwellers on the way. No one in the common room was particularly talkative so we drank up and headed to the room. Still a complete mess but at least my bunk was comfortable. We were not enjoying being in the city and both couldn't wait to get back to the countryside. The Turner. Distance = 24km Total = 569km Smell Factor = 5/10
What a mixed bag of a day. We left Orewa in the rain and made our way back into a sea of concrete, cars, and civilisation. After a month of beaches, hills, and forest this came as quite a shock. Cars sped past, some with a distinct lack of respect for our personal space but we hit back with our lack of personal hygiene as we stewed in our raincoats. We made good progress as we wound our way to our first tricky river crossing. We were an hour or so early; having to wait until low tide to make the attempt. So, we set up our chairs and relaxed, any excuse. The time was right to cross so it was on with the sandals. Finally being tall had it's advantage on this trip as I crossed with relative ease. Tiny Tom did not, with the water up to his chest a good half of his bag was submerged (keeping your stuff dry being one of the primary objectives of a thru hiker). We were about to pitch up on the trial when we met an American (Crystal) who informed us that with it being fireworks night the park rangers would be out and making any campers move on. She showed us the way to a spot she thought the rangers wouldn't look at, there was a reason for this because no one in their right mind would camp there. We trudged on through the park, passing many perfectly formed pitch spots with signs all around them stating 'no camping'. Tired, frustrated and getting hungry (very dangerous when Tom is involved) we made our way to the nearest camp site. It turns out that in New Zealand fireworks night doesn't finish until 2 am! What the frig! Guy Fawlks didn't even try to blow up any part of New Zealand! At least my sleeping pad didn't burst this time. The Turner |
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