New Zealand memory #2: Coromandel and Cathedral Cove

So halfway through our conservation project, Daryl, the Kuaka guide over our project had offered to take us on an excursion to Coromandel, a beautiful peninsula on the east side of the North Island. Those of us who decided to go payed him our $95 NZD to pay for the trip (gas was about $4/litre.) We drove for hours up winding mountain roads. Bus-sickness ensued for many. I sat next to Laura from northern California. We stopped for lunch at a surfing city, Whangamatai, where there were plenty of neat tourist shops. I bought some inexpensive Paua shell earrings and some NZ buttons for my bag. I wished we could have spent more time there, but we needed to keep driving to get to Whitianga before nightfall. After another little bit of driving, we came to the Cathedral Cove trailhead. It was a 45 minute hike to the bottom, but worth the hike. (Unfortunately, the entirety of the hillsides along the trail were covered in gorse!) Have you seen the movie Prince Caspian? The scene with the beautiful beach when the kids are entering Narnia, pristene, right? That's Cathedral Cove (photo.) I've been there. It was really amazing, and none of the pictures I took there do it justice. I made the mistake of running into the ocean in my sandals, making them and my feet wet. This was no problem for the time being, I took off my sandals and ran around on the beach. The sand was unlike anything I have ever felt in my life. I pinched some up in my fingers and it felt like brown sugar. I put that pinch of sand in my pocket for Katie Lins (Who, when asked what she wanted as a souvenier replied "I want some sand in a pocket.") I also found a delightful rock for Ted Twinting per his request. We spent some time there taking pictures and running around. After about an hour, we began to peel off and head back to the bus. I tried to put my wet, sandy chacos back on my feet, but ended up walking halfway up the trail barefoot. Worst hike of my life. Soon enough, though, my chacos dried enough for me to dust away the sand and attempt to put them back on my feet. By the time I made it back to the bus I had blisters and sores at every place a strap met my feet. I couldn't wear those shoes again for a week, and sparsely after that.

When we were all on board the bus again, we drove for another hour or so until we reached Whitianga, where we stopped at a grocery store, and then found the backpacker hostel where we would stay the night. This was the first time we had access to the internet ($2 for 20 minutes, not a bad fare.) It was getting late and we were all hungry. After a quick shower for some (and gratefully, a warm one with plenty of water pressure!) packs of people started heading into town to find dinner. I went with my usual group (Amanda, Meg, Hannah, Laura, and Shannon) and a few others. The town center was only a few blocks away, but at 5 o'clock on a winter weeknight, just about everything was closed. Just about the only affordable place that was open was the town bar, where many of the ISV group found their first taste of domestic NZ beer. This was the first time I have been inside a bar in my life! Monumental? perhaps. I was a little nervous at first, but it was not as trying as I had expected it to be. It was difficult at times to be the only Mormon on tour, but the people I was with were really accepting and I was never pressured to drink or do anything that I was uncomfortable with. Here, we found an unbeatable deal; burger, fries, and a handle for only 8 bucks! And no worries, they were happy to switch out my beer for a soda! This was an incredible bargain, as most meals in New Zealand cost $10-$15, and eating out for dinner could be especially pricy. Also, Thursday night was free billiards night, so we got to play a few games on the house. I guess you could say it was a good time. (side note- the ketchup bottles were in the shape of a tomoato, not just at this bar in Whitianga, but in multiple locations throughout NZ! And it isn't called ketchup, it's called tomato sauce.) There's not much for a Mormon girl to do in a bar, especially as the night progressed and people got more alcohol in them. Around 10:30 I went back to the backpacker with Amanda (who avoids drinkng too much because it makes her feel sick.)

Back at the backpacker, Amanda's roommates for that night were still at the bar, and she somehow didn't have a key that fit the lock to her room, and was locked out. We were tired, so I went to bed in my room, a building away from hers (this bedroom was TINY! about 11x7 ft., with two beds and a nightstand, but the bed was soft, the covers were warm, and there was indoor heating) Amanda fell asleep on the couch of her buildings commons area. About an hour later, I hear a pounding and pleading at my bedroom door. "Maren, Maren let me in... Maren... open the door..." It was Amanda... I hit the light and opened the door (the doorknob was about a foot away from my face.) She told me how some creepy drunk man who was staying in her building had been harrassing her, making her feel uncomfortable, and complaining about Americans. She stayed in my room for a while (as my roommate, Hannah, was still at the bar) and we slept until one of her roommates with a key could get home and let her into her room. It was about midnight when she got to her own bed and I fell asleep again. Half an hour or 45 minutes later, Hannah is fumbling at the door, apparently too drunk to operate a simple lock. I opened the door for her and she stumbled into bed. What a night, I thought, as I fell asleep for the fourth time that night.

I wanted to get an early start the next day, becuase we had a lot of things to do, and I wanted to try out some sea-kayaking while I had the chance. A storm was rolling in. There was a chilly sea-mist as I checked out a kayak and trailer from the backpacker and rolled it across the street to the beach. I'd never been kayaking before. I was alone. And it was raining. I knew I had to be careful and not go far, besides that, I was still pretty tired and didn't have much enthusiasm for it except that I wanted to do something new. I got out there and paddled around for a little while. The waves were less vicious as I got away from the ones crashing on the beach. I was only out there for 15 minutes, but it felt like hours. It was pretty fun, but I had my fill and was ready to go back before long. I paddled my way back in and caught a nice sized wave! It was a little scary, a little exhilerating, to ride the crest of a breaking wave... until it broke and flipped my entire kayak upside down. I ate seawater. It was shoved into every hole in my face and it was cold. After I realized I wasn't going to drown, I rushed after the kayak before it floated away. Fortunately, it got pushed into the beach and not pulled out to sea. With a water-logged headache, I loaded the kayak back onto the trailer, pulled it back into the backpacker, and went off to take a shower.

I had realized it when I woke up that morning, but couldn't comprehend why or how. My room reeked. I accredit Hannah and her excessive amount of alcohol consumption the night before. I couldn't take a breath in that tiny room, fortunately, I didn't have much to do to pack my bag. I took my hot shower down the hall, packed the rest of my things, and rid myself of that room. Later that day, we had a chance to make our own bone carvings (photo,) go horseback riding, take a tour via ferry, and do some serious souveneir shopping. Whitianga was a neat place for a day, but that's all it took to see the whole town. Everyone back on the bus and back to Blair Lodge... and cold showers.