Specs In The City

We were in Auckland again and knew that we wanted to get in to see the city and get out before rush-hour hit once again. All we had to do was cross the harbour bridge into the city centre, park up and wander round to see the few things we knew were to be found there. There were many places to park but with the height of our camper we would be restricted to the few that we could navigate into/under the barriers. After a few minutes touring round the city and finding that every single one had a height clearance of about 50cm less than we could manage we headed towards Auckland Domain (big park near the university campus) where we thought would be open-air and allow us to park up. When we did eventually find a place we were limited to 4 hours parking time, and without knowing how long it would take to get from the park into the city we thought we would have to risk it and leg it back if we had to. The trip to McDonalds to leech their wi-fi for emails etc was to be aborted as we wouldn’t have time to squeeze it in.

Amazing Auckland

Twenty minutes later we were back in the city centre of Auckland and on foot this time, without idiotic Kiwi drivers edging us out of our lanes. We knew of the Sky Tower (that tallest tower in the Southern Hemisphere) as we could see it for miles around, but other than that we were open to whatever we came across. Queen Street is where it all happens in Auckland, apparently. We didn’t find much to do there unless you wanted to eat a Subway, drink a coffee in whichever multi-national coffee chain you prefer, or buy some cheap tat from Japan (don’t ask). We arrived at the Sky Tower just as man came hurtling down from the rim of the tower some 197 meters above (possibly, I forget the actual distance). For lunch we found a nice little park nearby and ate our sandwiches well away from the crazy old Japanese lady drunk at the entrance. And she was a woman, although James (for the second time that day) had thought she was a “he” as we had walked past. We saw a few other little bits and bobs around the city, but there didn’t seem to be a huge amount to sight-see. Probably because it is by far the biggest city in the country (every third Kiwi lives there) and it is the centre of commerce and residences.

Well he's brave!

Once we had “done” Auckland we set off south down Highway 1 towards Rotorua, where we would be free-camping in or around the area. As the light was fading by the time we got near we took a snap decision to take a left onto Highway 29 rather than Highway 28 as it seemed like the best place to find a quiet spot. It didn’t look good. We weaved up a hilly, busy road which seemed to contain no trees or side-roads whatsoever. As we decided to turn around and go for Highway 28 we pulled in to a side road and James started to turn the wheel round. But then we realised that we were actually on a small and quiet side road so we could follow it and see where we turned up. It was another gravelly road but thankfully not as rough as in the forest in Northland, and there were signs for the school bus (which are frequently dotted around in the most random and inaccessible of places) so it must lead somewhere where there was civilisation. As we weaved around the small track we came across a few possible places but they were all too near the road and would mean that the school bus wouldn’t be able to get past. And then we came across a small “cul-de-sac” with nice rocky ground and nobody else around. A perfect place to stop, and even better was the noise from the river and waterfall right next to us that would send us to sleep perfectly. Before then though we would have another few glasses of wine and continue developing “Jim-tim” – the best card game not invented yet...

The Kids

The next day was accompanied by beautiful sunshine first thing in the morning. The birds were again tweeting out their little tunes, the overnight rain still pattering down onto the empty gravel bays beside us (I had advised we get a bay that wasn’t under a tree otherwise we would get that loud “splat” of excess rainwater dripping off the tree well after it has finished raining), and three strangely-coloured wading birds were ambling past the campervan as I slung open the door to go and “break the seal”. Gooooooooooood mmmmmmmmmmooooooorning Whangerei! We ate breakfast and gathered our things for the long journey ahead of us. We would be leaving the gravel bay of the campsite for.......the camp site visitors parking area. This meant that we could “check-out” of the campsite and leave the camper there whilst we walked into the town centre to get us both a hair-cut.

The town centre at Whangerei is relatively small and has most shops that any Kiwi would need. Three barbers though? Really? Well, we found the one that looked the cheapest and bounded in to see what they could do with our mop-tops. $18 (and a rather disinterested conversation between James’s lady barber and himself) later we were looking dapper again and ready for whatever the day could throw at us. First up was the cheap tat shops in the town centre. We are always on the look-out for these as there is always something that we need and are always needing it on the cheap. On the shopping list: small chess/draughts game, shower gel, hot water bottles, torch, batteries and padlock (one of mine that I bought from Wilkinson’s seems to have locked itself and I can’t detach my zip-on bag from my main one). James bought some knock-off made-in-China stuff that had whole words missing from the sentences on the label and we both bought hot water bottles, mainly for when we hit the south island, but maybe just for a treat every now and again.  The rest we couldn’t find so we went back to the campervan to go and find Whangerei Falls.

We found them!

These falls are the most photographed waterfalls in all New Zealand. Apparently. I don’t know how they know this or if they do regular checks of people’s cameras as they leave each and every waterfall in the country, of which there are plenty. It was only a few minutes drive to get there and it absolutely did not disappoint. Some 26 meters high and with numerous little viewing platforms it is easy to see why it holds the accolade it does. And unlike the waterfall we saw in Yosemite National Park this one was bulging and heaving over the edge due to the wet nature of the climate. I got snapping at the first viewing platform whilst James wandered over the bridge above the falls. Remembering about the lack of any kind of health and safety at Haruru Falls the day earlier we weren’t entirely surprised to see that the bridge had absolutely no sides to it and was only a few feet away from the top of the waterfall. James made it across with no problems you will be pleased to hear.

The falls

As I clicked away on the trusty Canon Powershot G12 I noticed a small group of school children mingling around the water nearby. Not wanting to get into any form of communication with them I set off to catch up with James across the bridge. But as I passed the two girls sitting on the wall they called out to me to take their picture. It was obvious that I would then have their picture on my camera with no real way of getting it to them (I wasn’t about to start asking schoolgirls for their email addresses) so I asked if they would rather I took one on their phone instead. After one girl asked me to give her one of my wristbands (to which I said “no, it is mine”) they looked at me blankly as if I didn’t understand how cameras worked or something. So I set up to take their picture, and then another girl was ushered into the fray, and joined them on the wall. With each one of them doing a gangster pose and pouting into my lens I snapped them and showed them my effort. They seemed pleased enough with it and said that I should upload it to Facebook and they would be able to see it there. Now, they should know that we would have to be friends on Facebook for that to work and as we definitely are not friends (and never will be) I just smiled and said “yeah, will do” in a casual I-want-to-leave-this-conversation way. I caught up with James at the base of the waterfalls and he was obviously very pleased with such a story. After a few more shots of the falls we headed back into the campervan and plotted our route to Waipu.

The kids

The reason for hitting Waipu was two-fold: it was on our route, and there is a cave there. It says “Waipu Caves” in the guidebook but we bumped into a couple who had just come from the cave(s) and they said they only found the one there. We trekked across a very boggy field to get to the cave and once there it was a very spooky experience. James used his tiny torch to light his way and I used the Flashlight App on my phone (other apps are available) to see the way. It was pitch black in there and a wide stream was running through the cave, but we couldn’t pinpoint its location. Not until James put his foot in it....literally. After a few minutes of scrabbling about James had had enough so he went back outside. I stayed in to see how far in I could get. I was always going to play it safe as claustrophobia and a fear of drowning were always at forefront of my mind. And after a while my eyes became accustomed to the dark and it all seemed so bright in there. Well, bright enough for me not to need a torch anyway. And then, up in the shadows I noticed a tiny pin-prick of light going all the way up to the surface. I assumed that’s what it was as it was blue in colour. And then I saw another one, and another, and another. Then I realised that these must be the glow-worms I had heard about. I knew there were glow-worms in Waitomo Caves but they were miles away and we wouldn’t make it there on our trip but I had no idea that there would be some of the little blinkers in Waipu. A great little bonus.

Whatcha doin' in a cave???

On the way down the coast we stopped off at a few bays and beaches, which still hold their beauty even though we have stopped at so many already. We were driving down to Auckland again to the campsite that we had booked the previous night as it was a great little deal and we didn’t want to try and free-camp in Auckland as it may prove tricky. We drove past our first free-camp site on our first night but decided against visiting it as we needed to get a wriggle on. And it was just a dirt track. When we got into Auckland again it was rush-hour, again. The light was fading and I found myself darting about trying to get out of everyone’s way as they made their way home from work. We managed to find the campsite at the second point of asking – we drove past it first time, but I blame the map and the signposts in this country. We parked up and decided we should treat ourselves and go out for a meal as we were in civilisation again. After spurning the chance for a Mongolian buffet (at $25 a head it was a little too rich for us) we settled on the Chinese restaurant next door to the campsite. My motto is always “when in Rome, do as the Romans do” so I went for the Singapore style vermicelli noodle dish with 4 Vietnamese-style won-tons on the side. James ordered (after a little bit of “lost in translation”) deep-fried chicken and chips, with deep-fried calamari and deep-fried mussels. Well, it turns out that the menu was quite specific and when it said Mussel for $0.70 it meant exactly that. One single mussel. James had initially thought that he would be getting a little banquet of mussels and calamari but actually got one single calamari and one single mussel to go with the chicken and chips. I found it absolutely hilarious but to be fair it was a big mussel. 

Back To Reality

It’s such an amazing feeling to wake up in the morning and realise that there isn’t another human being around for miles and miles. Save for the one up in the top bed, of course. But as we stirred and stretched our legs we knew we had eventually found a great spot as no other traffic had come down that road all night. The sound of rain on the top of the roof had woken us a little bit, but only because we were both fearing getting stuck in the mud and not being able to get Tony (the Toyota) out of the forest. Maybe we would have to catch some wild horses and ride our way to civilisation? In the end we pulled away without any fuss so the potential horse adventure was averted.

Our home for the night

Our first task that day was to get out of the forest and off that bloody gravelly road. We achieved this in no time and soon set course for the Bay of Islands, which is supposedly amazing scenery. We made excellent progress once we were back on the proper highways and didn’t have to swerve and weave our way down the road in third gear. Our first stop was to be Paihia on the north east coast of the island. As we missed another turning we arrived a little later than anticipated but we were treated to a fantastic view of the Bay of Islands area. Unfortunately the weather was not on our side and it had been cloudy and raining all day. Although the sight was great I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have looked like in blazing sunshine and without a cloud in the sky. After stopping off for lunch on the beach we continued up the coast to try and find Haruru Falls. For once we found it with ease and as we pulled into the small parking area adjacent to the falls we decided that we should wait for the rain to let up before getting out of the campervan. After 10 minutes it didn’t look like the rain would ever stop so we made a dash for it, each under our own golf umbrella. It was pretty impressive for something that wasn’t really hyped up that much. And there was nobody else around to see it or get in our way either, probably because it was the off-season but most likely because it was hoying down with rain. Very similar to Horseshoe Falls at Niagara, but very much scaled down, it packed a punch and we stood well back from the slippery rocks as there was absolutely no barrier to prevent anyone from falling into the churning broth below.

Wet wet wet

We knew that we would be making camp at Whangerei, south of the Bay of Islands, and we wanted to get there nice and early to book a plot and get some much-needed laundry done, so we departed Haruru Falls in good spirits and hit the highway. The journey was pretty much uneventful, and thankfully not too long as we arrived at the campsite (holiday park) at around 4pm. In addition to the laundry that was well overdue our barnets also needed a chop and we thought we might be able to squeeze one in at Whangerei before they closed but thought better of it as we had plenty of time the next day to do it. So James went for a walk in the rain and I set about making camp in our little gravel bay, well away from any other campervans in case Club Mickey were in town (Club Mickey = a noisy group of people, a reference from our family trips to France in the 80’s). Before we sat down to dinner I went for a hot shower that was also well overdue. Good facilities, nothing amazing but definitely did the job. And as I stepped out of said shower dripping water onto the rubber bath mat underneath my feet I realised something terrible had happened. One thing you should always, ALWAYS do when showering in a campsite is remember to take your towel with you. As I had forgotten mine in haste I had to use my trousers to rub myself dry, clamber into my clean clothes, head back to the campervan to retrieve my towel and then return to the shower room to finish off towelling myself dry. I certainly didn’t want to catch a cold down here and a head full of wet hair is one way to go about it, so I was glad when the glaring error had been corrected and I could sit down to dinner cleansed and crossing my fingers that a cold wasn’t heading my way.

The Gravelly Road

Being awoken by natural daylight and birds tweeting their little ditties to each other is a wonderful way to start the day. To then exit the campervan and see all the magnificent scenery that New Zealand has to offer right on your doorstep is something else. Birds foraging for worms, cobwebs still wet with the morning dew, and guy in next caravan still on his laptop. I assume he did go to sleep at some point and that he isn’t some kind of cyborg sent to scour the internet in campsites for all eternity. We had slept well in our new locations and decided that these would be our usual places, just like we used to when we had the bunk-beds as kids. We needed to pack everything up, disconnect the power, empty the waste water and top up the drinking water before we could set off, and we even tried to SKYPE the parents back in England but a problem in the wording of the email and the difference in time zones put a stop to that.

Contemplating our next move

Our first port of call was Omapere, along the coast from where we had been staying, but first we would need to navigate Whaipua Forest. It didn’t seem like far on the map, and should only take a short time to drive through, but we were wrong, oh so wrong. Whaipua Forest is beautiful. It has lush, verdant forests that are laden with all manner of different species of flora (and probably fauna, but we didn’t see anything) and has one single road that cuts straight through it. This has to be one of the most winding and hilly roads we have come across and it took forever to get through it. Thankfully nothing jumped out in front of the car (unlike the day earlier when on two separate occasions we came across dogs walking in the road and really not wanting to get out of the way of the hulking great campervan tearing towards them) and we came across only a handful of quad-bikes and cars beetling through the forest so it wasn’t a particularly busy stretch of road.

Our first stop-off was at South Head, Omapere, whereby we ditched the campervan and walked the short track down to the edge of the bay. And it was truly magnificent. The weather had held out well and we were dazzled by the water crashing onto the rocks just below us and the vista that filled our eyes. A 5 minute break turned into a 45 minute mini-hike as we clambered around the place and eventually got down to the beach. We had lunch on the other side of the bay at a huge concrete picnic table a few meters away from the crashing surf. This moment was similar to the one in Birmingham, lying on Don’s couch thinking, “Is this real? This is crazy, I can scarcely believe this sequence of events that has brought me here”. But there we were, on the side of the bay, eating our homemade sandwiches listening to the waves breaking on the beach and the calling of seagulls all around us.

Beautiful!

When we eventually set off again we were heading towards Rawene where there was a car ferry to get us across the large lake and back onto Highway 1. But we weren’t going to spend $14 doing that as we had spotted a small road that would bypass it, albeit with a few more miles into the Hi-Ace, and knew that it wouldn’t take long. The thing is with New Zealand, and Rob had warned us about this on our first day in the country, that the road signs are positioned at the junction of the roads so by the time you have read the sign you have sped past the turning and need to double-back on yourself. This had happened to us on a number of occasions, and we had vented our anger at the country’s town/road planners. You can guess where this story is going. Yup, we missed one of our turnings and so had to retrace our steps to make the correct turn. We then realised that this wasn’t the correct turn and we were somewhere completely different on the map than we had thought. So we had to double-double-back and carry on the way were going before we had turned around and ended up doing the medium-length diversion instead of the short-diversion as planned. But hey, we saved that $14 car ferry fee...

As we drove north we realised that we were nearing the town of Ahipara which is the beginning of 90 Mile Beach, but it seemed that it would be a stretch too far if we were to make it onto the beach further north (you can’t take the campervams onto the beach, wisely, and there was a road to the beach further up the coast) so we diverted and headed up past Kaitaia. We wanted to hit the beach first and then, if we had time, stop by Houhora where New Zealand’s most northern tavern could be found. We would then find a camping spot before it got dark as it was very difficult on the first night and we certainly didn’t want a repeat of that. We found the road (small gravel track) that led down to 90 Mile Beach, the thing that had brought us so far north of this beautiful country. And we were amazed. We were amazed how similar it was to Crosby beach back home. For those of you who have never been (the lucky ones) Crosby beach is a wide expanse of sand and not much else save for a few pieces of driftwood, dead seaweed and a handful of seashells. 90 Mile Beach turned out to be almost identical, but was a lot nicer for the water seemed much more blue, the sand was yellow instead of brown, there was a distinct lack of rubbish washed up on the shore and there was no gale-force cold wind rushing through your hair. Still, it was worth a visit, and we knew we would never make it all the way to the very top of New Zealand, Cape Reinga, for that would definitely be too far and cost us approximately two days more of our time.

Is this New Zealand or Crosby??

Realising that finding the tavern may also be difficult given that the light was fading (at about 5pm) we decided to find our camp site for the night instead. On the map was a large forest right next to the coast and this seemed like the best place to grab a secluded (not a romantic) plot for the night. Heading back from the beach we took a left that took us parallel with the coast and further into the forest. The road was still a gravel track, but was now covered with thick chunks of rock rather than small pieces that you could easily drive over. Down to third gear and about 30kmh at best we trundled through the forest, first with side lights on and then with dipped headlights as the night closed in around us. It felt like we had been driving for an age before we found the turning that we believed would be our best bet for a campsite. Being self-contained is very handy as you can simply park up on the side of the road if necessary and so long as you can cope with any passing traffic you are good to go. Obviously we didn’t want to park up somewhere that would get us stuck in mud as it had been raining a LOT since we had arrived, so we were keeping our eyes open for a nice rocky/gravelly area. After taking the turn and driving for another 15 minutes down the track we had seen a couple of potential spots but were holding out for one nearer the tavern so we could stop in on the next day before setting off. The next thing we saw wasn’t a rocky plot of land, far from it. It was three wild horses munching the grass by the side of the road. That explained all the horse crap everywhere. They scarpered as soon as we got near, but having never seen wild horses before it was a great feeling. The next great feeling was seeing another group further down the road, who again legged it as soon as we got near. The next feeling was not so great. Whilst looking at said horses James had identified something in the road ahead that did not please him. It was a gate. To a field. So basically we had been driving for 20 minutes up some farmer’s driveway. After a few profanities we did a “180” and reluctantly set off back down the gravelly road.

Time for a cuppa!

We came to the turning that we had passed earlier and decided this was the best place we would find and set about parking up and checking we would be ok to get out in the morning and that there was an adequate number of trees nearby to pee against. Check, and check. And that was our campsite for the night, slightly off the gravelly road, hoping that nobody would be tearing past us early in the morning or moving us on/off some irate farmer’s property. We spent the night blogging and playing cards, the latter of which James managed to “unify the belts” of Blackjack and Rummy, which was disappointing from my point of view. The weather was fresh but it was such a clear night that you could see the stars with no problem at all, none of which I could identify having only seen/recognised constellations in the northern hemisphere. I finished my glass of red wine, had one last tactical pee and constructed my bed for the night as all around me lay quiet. Apart from James sniffing and coughing in the top bed...

Hello New Zealand!

The plane arrived in Auckland on time and we collected our things that had thankfully made the transfer successfully. I needed to make a call to the Happy Camper company for them to pick us up from the airport and take us to what would be our home for the next month. I found a phone box and made the call. Rob answered in a typically Kiki voice and I advised him of our booking and that we were at the airport and ready for him to pick us up. But Rob had no record of our booking. My heart sank. My face fell. My stomach turned. You get the idea. But there was another company that sometimes got their bookings as it had been done through STA travel in England and Rob would check with them and ring me back. So I waited by the phone, having not told James about the mix-up because I didn’t want him to worry about it and also so that he didn’t start having a go at Stewart (our STA man who had arranged everything for us) again as he didn’t trust him for some reason. After 10 minutes I gave Rob another call and thankfully he had our reservation and he would pick us up in 5 minutes. Fantastic! I proceeded to tell James about the error, safe in the knowledge it would all be sorted out soon, and sure enough a little Stew-bashing commenced. Rob turned up shortly and we climbed into his van as he apologised profusely for the error. There was no need, as it seemed like it was out of their hands anyway, but as we chatted it seemed like he knew a little about England. It turns out that he was English and had only been in New Zealand for 6 months but already had that twang to his accent. He was trying to get permanent residency in the country with his girlfriend and had only good things to say about the place. It got me thinking about my own plans for the future and whether there was a Unilever somewhere on one of the islands...

When we arrived at the office we went through the usual contract procedures and formalities, with more apologies from Rob regarding our lost booking. They really went out of their way to please us and got a camper ready for us in no time – there were plenty in the garage but as it was out of season they were not all ready to roll out and use straight away. We got the guided tour of the camper, a Toyota Hi-ace that sleeps 2/3 people, and we felt ready to take on the world. Or at least New Zealand. Our first stop, however, would be at the nearby shopping plaza where we would be stocking up on food, drink and warm clothes! As we had mostly summer clothing we would need some big thick jumpers (or pullovers if you are reading this in the US), jogging bottoms, hats and gloves, etc. Warehouse was apparently the “Primark of New Zealand” so we (tentatively) headed out of the garage and down the road, all the while making sure that we were on the LEFT side of the road after our brief experience in the US. We got the warm clothes, the food and the drink (me - 3L box of red wine, James - 3L box of white wine) and identified a route north that would get us heading towards 90 Mile Beach at the northern tip of the North Island. All we had to do was find Highway 1. It was clearly labelled on the map, just follow Highway 20 and it becomes Highway 1.

The Happy Camper !

It was my turn to take over The Mighty One and after a couple of laps in the car park to get the hang of it we hit the road northbound. It was rush-hour and the light was fading, but we would soon be through Auckland (which accommodates over a quarter of the entire country’s population) and heading up the coast to a camp site we had seen on the map. We found Highway 20 no problem. All we had to do was stay on it and it would become Highway 1. And that is exactly what we did, and that is exactly what didn’t happen. Somehow we ended up in the residential areas around the outskirts of Auckland and just couldn’t get back on track. We came across the same stretch of road 4 times and still couldn’t get it right. Rob had told us that the road signs are not particularly useful and it turns out that he was right. In the end we had to double-back to the airport and start again, but we found the legendary Highway 1 and carried on our way. We had been told that it should have been raining all day that day, but it had only been slight showers on and off. Suddenly the heavens opened and as we passed through Auckland there was carnage on the roads. Rain like you’ve never seen it before was hammering down onto the road and the wipers that were set to full wipe could only just cope. We made it through Auckland, but much later than we had anticipated and our evening of sitting down with a glass of wine and reading through our heaps of literature (that we snaffled from the airport) looked unlikely to happen at all. We were miles away from the campsite and jetlag was setting in. So we decided that our first night in the campervan would be a “side of the road” effort unless we found something soon.

It was dark, it was raining intermittently, there were people close behind us trying to get past and the roads were weaving. This made it incredibly difficult to identify a spot to pull into and set up camp. After a couple of failed efforts whereby we ended up cruising down a road that just connected peoples driveways we found a spot that seemed good enough to park up. It was similar to the other failed attempts in that there were houses/farms nearby but we had managed to get a spot in an abandoned area which was away from the road enough so that any vehicles would be able to pass by freely. The warm clothes were doing their job (we had changed into them almost immediately after leaving the shopping plaza) and now it was the turn of the food and drink. I managed to force a banana down me followed by half a glass of red wine before I fell asleep on the left-side couch/bed. It was time for me to turn in. But again, easier said than done. Even a tactical toilet break meant getting the shoes on and braving the cold, cold night. And then I had to make my bed. I was sleeping “up top” that night and so had to slot 3 heavy sections of wood into place before setting out the 4 cushions that would be my mattress. With about half a meter between the mattress and the ceiling there was ample room to stretch out and get comfy – the sleeping bag and duvet made sure of that. And so I drifted off to sleep for the first time in a campervan, a new country, a new continent and a new hemisphere. That is until a heavy goods train went past only meters from the campervan. And then when James hit the wrong light switch and almost blinded my with the halogen bulb just by my face. But soon I was asleep and trying to get the ol’ body clock back on track

Goodbye USA, It's Been Emotional

Our last nights sleep in the USA (for this trip anyway) was peaceful, and we woke with a hint of excitement that we would be soon entering the Southern Hemisphere, something that neither of us had done before. There wasn’t much on the agenda for that day, just pack up and get to the airport that were the important things. The hostel let us leave our main bags in reception and we set out to find a book shop to hopefully sell the USA guidebook that had seen us through so much over the past 7 weeks and purchase a Rough Guide/Lonely Planet for New Zealand. James had seen on the internet that there was a place just round the corner so we wandered out to find it.

We couldn’t find it. For the main reason that it looked like the entire section of shops where it once stood had been demolished and had workmen all over the place surveying this and that. We asked a couple of people walking past and they couldn’t pinpoint where the nearest one would be, so carried on wandering in the hope that we would find it. Out of the corner of his eye James spotted something that looked like a bookshop and we headed inside. Sure enough it was the place that we had been looking for, and it was very aptly named “The Last Bookstore”. We managed to sell the USA book and only pay $1 extra for one on New Zealand (not a Rough Guide or Lonely Planet, but still seemed like it had everything we would need) but only after James had been asked for his ID. This country is crazy for ID and we wondered what else you would need it for if they won’t even let you sell a book without it! But at least part one of our mid-morning mission was complete. Part two would involve a trip to the US Post Office.

We needed to send a few items home and the Post Office that we found in Downtown didn’t have the right box to send our things back by “snail mail” so we set off in search of another. We finally found one, after being given bogus directions, and bundled our items up and sent them off back to Blighty. Hopefully mum and dad will receive them within 15 days and won’t open them up. That means YOU, mum and dad if you are reading! BY the time we had completed this other little task it was getting late in the day so we went for a stroll through the Japanese Quarter and the Art District. Only briefly though, but we did see the old Japanese guy who was on Britain’s (or America’s, I forget which) Got Talent a couple of years ago. He was a one-man-band and had constructed his organ with the use of white plastic pipes, but he never got through the first audition. A train and a walk later and we were leaving the hostel and getting ready to hit the airport.

The hostel/Hotel Cecil

LAX (Los Angeles International Airport) is quite some distance away so it involved two long trains and a shuttle bus to get us there, but we were there in plenty of time (as per our old Greyhound adventures) so we had time to change our clothes, freshen up and dispose of any food items we may have in our luggage. Our flight was at 23:30 that night so we got through security and set up camp in the lounge. As per the Greyhound adventures a young chap came and sat down near us and started chatting away to us. He didn’t seem like a weirdo so we happily responded to his questions – the usual ones about England, the Olympics, etc. The girl sitting next to him was from Manchester, but we didn’t hold it against her. She took some of the pressure off us from the barrage of questions and general chat emanating from the young lad and it turned out that she had been in the San Francisco International (Party) Hostel at the same time as we had been there. We didn’t recognise each other, and it turns out that she wasn’t staying there but her mates had been able to smuggle her in for the free booze that started at half 9 every night. Small world.

We boarded the plane and James settled into his window seat (I had got the window seat from London to New York) whilst I chatted to the Australian grandma next to me who had been to the states to visit family. She liked America but she loved Australia so much and further increased my expectancies for the trip there later. She was a very bad sleeper on planes but had not slept well the night before so was hoping to get some decent rest on the plane. After agreeing that we would all wake each other up as and when food came round we settled into our flight. After dinner me and James were both out for the count for sleeping on the plane was an absolute luxury compared to the Greyhound. We woke for breakfast and then back to sleep. We woke for Immigration leaflets and then back to sleep. Poor old grandma hardly got any and she said she was incredibly jealous of both of us for sleeping so much. I guess you just have to pay your dues on the Greyhound...

When the plane finally touched down we were in Fiji. We had discussed staying in Fiji longer but recognised that maybe we should have a “rest country” halfway through the trip rather than just after America. But we were here, in Fiji, in another continent, and in another hemisphere! We were greeted by a small band playing ukuleles, as would be expected, and proceeded through to the next lounge to wait for our plane to Auckland. It was very quiet in there, and everything seemed closed as it has 5 in the morning. We didn’t have any food or water on us due to the laws on bringing such things into the country and we couldn’t even buy anything as we had no Fijian dollars. So we blogged a bit, listened to some tunes and played some cards until our next plane departed a couple of hours later. I had managed to retain my crown as Blackjack King and was leading James in the Rummy 3-1 but the session was cut short by the boarding call. The Unification of both titles will not take long and will surely be achieved in our campervan in the hills of New Zealand somewhere.

Fiji! OK,, it's only the airport waiting lounge, but it's still Fiji!

Hollywooooooooood!

So our first day out in Los Angeles was to be a trip down memory lane. Well, not exactly. It wouldn't be OUR memories, but more memories of the past and present of music, film and TV stars throughout the ages. Yes, we were taking a trip down Hollywood Boulevard.

Ummmmm......Star Wars vs Halo???

We got the subway a few stops down from Downtown and emerged into the bright sunshine to find ourselves already on Hollywood Boulevard. We headed left and watched the stars pass by underfoot, occasionally stopping for a photo with some of the more famous or outlandish ones along the way. It was great to see some of the most famous names in entertainment history, and also rather funny when James was question by a big American chap standing by a door about why he was photographing a small stuffed rabbit toy on Hollywood Boulevard. "What is the significance of the rabbit?" he rumbled towards James, who merely finished his photo opportunity and mumbled something about it being a long story.

Big bad Boris

There wasn't much else to see on one of the most famous roads in North America, as the area is pretty much run down as soon as you step off it. There were many touts trying to get us on a tour of the celebrity houses that litter the area just of the boulevard. The only other real thing of note was, of course, the Hollywood sign that looks over the area imperiously. We had decided to take a wander up to it and put the good old British legs to good use, but when we mentioned this to a tour operator along the boulevard they just laughed and said that we'd never make it. Well you'll know by now that this kind of thing merely spurs us on, so we set about our little trip with gusto, plus a hastily-drawn map of the area from the dis-believing tour operator.

It was hot, and it was faaaaaaaaaaar. We never made it. We got as close as we could, and we took in a few nice sights along the way, but it was miles away and we came close to getting lost in a suburban labyrinth we had stumbled into. So we took some pics as best we could and wandered back to the busy main street and find something else to look at.

And that's as close as we got!

There was a band, and I'm assuming "was" is appropriate, called The Ramones some time ago. Some long-haired rockers who I have heard of and who James has got a few albums of theirs. One of them, Johnny, is buried in a huge cemetery near Hollywood Boulevard, so we took a stroll round to see if we could find him. We ended up getting separated, due to James's refusal to get out into the sunshine in the middle of the cemetery, and I managed to find his grave by a small lake. It was quite serene there, but baking hot, so I mooched round to find James, show him the pictures and plan our next move.

Johnny Ramone

Our next move turned out to be a wander too/through Beverly HIlls, one of the most luxurious places in the US. We never really got to see some of the amazingly big and plush houses, but it certainly felt like we were out of place with our pink sun-burn, sweaty faces and grubby rucksacks! Once we were through with The Hills we ended up going into a photography exhibition in the LA Arts Museum. It was free of charge so we headed in and marveled at the display of rock 'n' roll photography through the ages. Some truly inspiring stuff.

It was a long bus ride back to the hostel and we were absolutely shattered by the time we got back so the evening was spent at a low-budget Mexican eatery and a can or two of chilled lager. A long and fruitful day!