The arrival of the Mother Superior

Well I won't bore you with the few days before Mammy's flight arrived in Auckland, except to say that my grand plans to continue improving my new diving skills were thwarted somewhat ...

Pool, check, white plastic deckchairs, check, potted plant, check, water ... ah

Anyway, we were there at the airport ready for her when she arrived very late on Valentine's day, with a poxy little sheet of A4 paper that said 'Kia Ora Mammy' (to help her identify us as it has been a little while since we last saw each other). There were a group of Finns there at the same time, also waiting for family, with an over-the-top, totally ostentatious sign decorated with flags and kiwis and sheep - and Gareth and I were truly jealous of it. The sign didn't help them when their family arrived though, because they still looked daft when they rugby tackled their family to the floor as they came through the arrival doors. Luckily they had all gone by the time Mammy came through the doors like a contestant from 'Stars in their Eyes' and she seemed quite happy with our more restrained, and very British, effort.

No sign of jetlag yet

We know Mammy loves shopping so first stop was the supermarket around the corner for a few supplies (always good after a 24 hour flight) then back to the airport hotel, where, after a quick catch up we put her to bed as soon as possible in the hope of fending off the jetlag.

Eggs Benedict, yum

Next morning over breakfast we ran through the plan for the next three weeks - a whistlestop tour around North Island taking in as much as possible and (hopefully) giving Mammy the trip of a lifetime. There were no arguments from Mammy - who was busy getting into her first flat white coffee - so it was agreed and off we set...

We'd hired a car for our first fortnight (a sad little Nissan Sunny whose best days were definitely behind it, and even those days weren't that great) and first stop was Raglan, on the West Coast, known for its world-class surfing at Manu Bay - and yes, you've guessed it, flat as a pancake when we arrived. (Incidentally, now that we've left Queensland, Dai has confirmed that the surf is back.) Raglan was pretty enough, with a row of shops along one main street but with no surf, and the arrival of rain the mext morning, we decided to move on to the town of New Plymouth, in the Taranaki region.

"Sarah, your mum will be fine travelling in here"

It was an epic drive - despite New Zealand being tiny compared with Australia, the scenic, winding roads here take a lot longer to navigate than the easy, straight roads we'd got so bored of in Queensland. Driving to New Plymouth took nearly all day - but when we arrived there was some surf!

Catch it while you can

I was more impressed by the sight of beautiful Mt Taranaki, the volcano that gives the region its name, visible from the car park above the surf beach.

Pretty spectacular

Now for some facts about the volcano - I can give you lots. First of all, at 2518m high, it is the most-climbed mountain in New Zealand and was the stand-in for Mt Fuji in Tom Cruise's film The Last Samurai. More interesting is the Maori legend that explains that Taranaki once stood with the other volcanoes in the Tongariro National Park area, until Taranaki and Tongariro himself had a bit of a bust-up over a girl volcano, Pihanga (isn't it always over a girl?) and Taranaki fled west, tearing up a wide scar across the country where the Whanganui River now flows. Now Taranaki hides his face behind a cloud of tears. Sad, isn't it?

Mt Taranaki is one of the wettest places in New Zealand and there is a saying:

If you can see Mt Taranaki it's going to rain and if you can't see Mt Taranaki it's already raining.

I could see that was true because by the time we came up from the beach the mountain had completely vanished from view. I guessed it had started raining over there...

While we were in New Plymouth, Mammy decided it was time for more flat whites. These are a really nice coffee that you can get here in New Zealand and in Oz. They're quite addictive and Mammy had got the bug. We went into a cafe and Mammy ordered one each for us, getting into a bit of bother with the New Zealand accent, which is a bit clipped and flat. The conversation went a bit like this:

Mammy: Three flat whites please
Waiter: Three flit whuyts. Thut'll be tin dollars fufty cints
Mammy: I'm sorry? How much?
Waiter: Tin fufty
Mammy: How much?

At this point Gareth stepped in to translate, ten dollars fifty cents please. Here started the running joke of the trip and we found many, many ways to use it.

What time do we have to check out tomorrow? Tin o'clock

How long until our washing is finished? Tin minutes

What are you doing in the water? I'm putting my tin toes in the Tasman Sea

...and so on.

From New Plymouth we headed south towards Wellington, where we'd run into a bit of a problem with our laid-back attitude to booking accommodation. That evening the Wellington Hurricanes were playing the Auckland Blues in the Super 14 rugby and the night before, New Zealand had whooped the Aussies' butts in the cricket, so there were no rooms in Wellington and we had to stay just outside in a place called Porirua. There was nothing much there except a fish and chip shop where we got our supper. Now the only thing I put on my chips is salt, but Mammy and Gareth love vinegar and in New Zealand they don't seem to understand that chips without vinegar is WRONG. Mammy obviously planned for us to eat chips a few more times over the holiday because at the next opportunity she bought a huge bottle of vinegar, possibly the biggest I've ever seen - certainly more than big enough for a three week trip where only two of you like vinegar.

Product shown actual size

Next day we made up for lost time in Wellington - first stop was the red cable car - running since 1902, which took us up to Kelburn. From here there were beautiful views over the city and also the Skyline restaurant, where we had lunch before wandering over to the Botanical Gardens. The gardens were a bit wild but they did have a few weird and wonderful things to look at, including a sundial where you used your body to tell the time (it worked!).

Sarah's true vocation was as an Army Physical Training Instructor

Later on we found a few exhibits that were supposedly something to do with light and sound but we never really worked them out.

Gareth would never make the mistake of trying to take an unpeeled banana off an elephant again...

After getting the cable car back down to the city, we wandered across the waterfront to Te Papa, the national museum. I'd heard rave reviews about this place and they weren't wrong. For starters, it was free! By the time we arrived, it was about 4pm and with the museum spread across five floors we were never going to see everything - but in two hours we managed to visit the museum's own Marae (Maori meeting place), find out a bit about Maori culture, see some of New Zealand's wildlife, get coffee and cake, experience an earthquake and learn about volcanoes and do a virtual bungee jump! Phew!

Mammy had completely forgotten the universal diving sign for shark

After dinner that evening in an Italian restaurant, where Gareth met someone he knew through work in Cardiff (he had come travelling himself but reached New Zealand and never left - small world!) we had another important place to visit - Wellington's Welsh pub, owned by my Auntie Margaret's cousin Michael. The Welsh Dragon is apparently the only Welsh pub in the Southern Hemisphere - it was weird, walking into a pub decorated with Welsh flags and photos, listening to Welsh music, and being served by a barman from Abergele.

Iechyd Da!

Despite Michael not being there, we had a good time, which got even better when a skinny South American in flip flops walked in and started playing Lionel Richie on the battered old piano. As you can imagine, being Lionel Richie's Number One fan, I was in my element. So was Gareth, and it took a few hours, several beers and a Black Russian (this is a drink, not a person) before we managed to get him back to the hotel.

Next morning, to clear the cobwebs and Gareth's hangover we drove to the top of Mount Victoria for fantastic views of Wellington harbour, the city, and its surrounds, followed by a quick stop at Wellington Cathedral before we headed to Napier, another epic drive away, on the East coast.

Mammy was made to stay behind after class

Napier is known for its Art Deco architecture, the result of rebuilding following the 1931 earthquake that virtually destroyed the city. Well, they call it a city, I think that Llanelli could easily claim city status if it was here in NZ. We'd booked into a motel right on the front and it was early to bed because next morning we had big plans, starting at about 5am when our alarm went off and I called Andrew at Early Morning Balloons to confirm that our hot-air balloon trip was still on - and it was!

The website said that with Early Morning Balloons we would be up in the air in time to see the sunrise - at 6am we were still faffing about in the car park trying to decide where to go and by 7am we had finally found somewhere to 'launch' from - if that's what they say. Getting the balloon ready to go took ages although it was quite cool to watch - and the sun was well risen by the time were ready to go. Thankfully they don't use a foot pump for the balloon, as it was absolutely huge and took about twenty minutes to inflate with an industrial size fan. There were six passengers plus Andrew and it was a bit of a squeeze in the basket. One of the other passengers was an ex-pat, originally from Chester, who was quite possibly the most boring man ever, with lots of little anecdotes to tell (many about tinned fruit), none of which were even remotely connected to the conversation going on. Fortunately for him (and us) he was wedged up the other end of the basket as otherwise I fear that Gareth might have thrown him over the side before the end of the trip.

The balloon ride lasted about an hour and with hardly any wind at all, the main issue wasn't keeping it up in the air but making sure we went far enough to avoid all the orchards in Hawkes Bay. It was a very smooth landing, with no bumps, then we were served a 'Ballooning Breakfast' which was lovely although somewhere along the line I foolishly agreed to drive so I had to do without most of my glass of fizz!

Gareth now realised why Sarah and Cheryl had been so quiet

Back in Napier that afternoon we relaxed a bit with a few more flat whites and a wander around the shops and the beach.

Undercover flat white drinker

Best to take it easy with what we had planned for the next week ...