GETTING DOWN TO REAL BUSINESS
New Plymouth
Getting There
Feeling liberated by the addition of Rosie to the group, we instantly head for the coast and Whanganui. With seemingly all the time in the world at our disposal we relax, take in the sights and pot our trip to New Plymouth from the haven of Kailwi Beach.
Back on the road we make very good time before stopping in Stratford for some grub and an overnight stay. After much searching and deliberating we settle on a gourmet burger bar and what an inspired decision it turns out to be. Famous for its agricultural sector NZ offers some of the best meat and fresh produce available internationally and two slabs of burgers go down an absolute treat. With nourishment sorted it’s time to sort a home for the night….enter Rosie. We drive around the town looking for a car park that will house Rosie, us and her reclinable seats for the night. We stumble upon a suitable town hall and pull up in the far corner of the car park. With our beds made for the night it’s time to go in search of somewhere showing the England v Argentina game.
Five minutes walk from our mobile home lies a quaint and deserted sports bar which will do the job nicely. With only a few locals and a sharp smell of manure to keep them company, we order a drink each and find a secluded spot for ourselves. As the game gets under way however, the place begins to empty out to the point where there’s just us two, another gent, the barmaid and the ever-present stink of manure left. Obviously not one for his own company the gent approaches us and asks if he can join us. No problem! Turns out he’s a local farmer and quite an interesting character. Things get a bit more interesting when he finds out we’re sleeping in the car for the night and instantly tells us we’re coming back to his to take advantage of his spare room and his wife’s great cooking!
Not knowing our luck we try to be polite and refuse but he’s adamant and we accept- we can even watch the second half of the game back at his in the comfort of his games room! 15 mins later we’re back in Rosie following Colin and his wife Cheryl back to their place. True to his word he has a great games room for watching the second half and safe in the knowledge of having a decent nights sleep ahead of us we relax. England go on to eek out a win and we get a huge bed for the night, not bad!
In the morning Colin and Cheryl’s generosity went even further. We awake to be presented with a traditional kiwi breakfast, provided with showers and are supplied with drinking water for the road ahead….. the type of hospitality that would impress a traveller to return the favour to others if a similar situation arose.v
Game Time, Round 1: Ireland v USA
A wee 45 minute drive gets us to New Plymouth in plenty of time to soak up the pre-match atmosphere. The Irish have travelled in force with splashes of green visible all over the town. With no accommodation sorted as usual we poke out a lovely scenic car park to leave our mobile home. Luckily it’s Sunday and nobody needs their parking space for work- there’s nothing but Irish campervans pulled up in the car park for the night. The party and music really get going when we bump into a couple of friendly faces who have the same idea about accommodation for the night ahead. There’s even time for a few American supporters to get in on the act and the craic is mighty.
After a very jolly walk to the stadium it’s done to serious business- game time. Flattering to deceive, Ireland somewhat stutter to a 22-10 victory but it’s a winning start nonetheless. Three more of those and we’ll be singing all the way to the quarter finals. We’re far from singing the next morning when we awake to discover Rosie is a bit sick and won’t start. Not to worry however, an investment in a shiny set of jump leads and a little help from some Donegal lads and their Toyota Corolla has Rosie purring again in no time.
With no notion of what we’ll do with ourselves we decide to meet a college friend who is doing some travelling herself. Not knowing our luck in the hospitality stakes; Fiona, her sister Aileen and travelling companion Jane end up taking great care of myself, Conor, Rosie and the llama. We get showers, another huge bed and a slap up breakfast the following morning- much appreciated girls!!
Sheep, Sea, and Springs
As has now become routine, we wave goodbye to life’s little luxuries, get back on the road and head further up the coast. A little unsure of where we’re off to we stop off at Te Kuiti, which for all you wool enthusiasts, transpires to be the sheep shearing capital of New Zealand. With plenty evidence to support its claim to fame, it could be said that Te Kuiti is a little different to your average town. It also pays great homage to Colin Earl Meads, its most famous son having been voted the greatest All Black rugby player of all time.
Acclimatising to the litany of sheep scattered all over the place, we make an attempt to get to Raglan, the surfers paradise of NZ. When I say an attempt I really do mean an attempt and not a very good one at that. A couple of wrong turns (which were my fault seeing as I was holding the map) has us driving up the side of mountains in the pitch dark with no town in sight. After an hour or two of enjoying the treacherous bends NZ roads have to offer, we finally get to Ka and pull up in the harbour for the night.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed, we arise the next morning and make for Raglan….and make it this time! Although not exactly peak surfing season (it’s Spring after all!), there is still a good buzz around the place. We make straight for the beach and take in the fine views on offer. Being one of the colder days we’ve encountered thus far, we decide it best to refrain from having a dip especially seeing as we’ve no wetsuits. In the car park afterwards we meet a very excitable kiwi who’s only mad to chat with the two Irish lads. It turns out his daughter got swept up by an Irishman who was on tour in NZ a few years back and he subsequently smuggled her back to Ireland….sorry about that! Before getting on his merry way he gives us some contact details in case we want to sell Rosie to him when we’re done with her- a fierce nice fella altogether!
In need of a wash we head about 30 minutes outside Raglan to the Waingaro hot springs. Heated entirely by geothermal activity some 12 kilometres below the earths surface, you could say they’re not your average bathing pools- they even put New Zealand’s longest water slide there for good measure. With lady luck still smiling upon us we roll up to find that 10 other Irish lads have been waiting two hours for the springs to open but we can just go right ahead- thanks for that lads! We relax here for a few hours in the warm pools and have a good go off the slides before showering and getting back on the road to Raglan.
In a rush to watch Scotland v Georgia, we get some take away only to find to more Irish lads with the same idea…..we’re seemingly everywhere over here. Having been in Raglan for a few days they know a good place to watch the game so we duly tag along. The Scots edge a truly dower contest after which we set about finding a home for Rosie and ourselves for the night. We settle again for a lovely seaside spot and recline our seats for the night.
Perhaps we should’ve taking more care in choosing our spot for the night as we’re awoken early the next morning by a park ranger banging on the car window. Not best pleased he points to a sign no more than a few feet from Rosie that clearly states “NO OVERNIGHT STAYS OR CAMPING”. We appeal to the kindness of the man and he lets us off with a friendly warning. Although the pair of us must have looked like right bums we spared a little more dignity than the driver of the camper next to us who, at the time we were pulling out, was seen arriving out of his camper in just his boxers to have a chat with the ranger…..classy fella!
Back on the road it’s off for the another installment of rugby, time to revisit Auckland!
