I feel possessed (Northland, New Zealand)

And for our last night in New Zealand we have returned to the dark ages. No internet. That I can discover. The information about the bach we are staying in was sent via Stayz. All good. But who prints that stuff? Not me, so when we arrive at the place and there is no book containing the sacred of the sacred, the internet password, you are left with, well, nothing. Don’t get me wrong, the accommodation is lovely, in a great spot, although a hill makes it a little further from town than the distance suggests. But, but, no net! And I can’t check to see whether there should be because … yep, I can’t connect with Stayz. A nifty little catch-22 and we’re only here for one night.

Sorry, dear reader, I didn’t mean to commence with a rant. Today’s title? We return to my possessed GPS who likes to ignore the usual conventions and gaslight you. Today, among other adventures, we drove off the main road around the block and returned to the road we were travelling on previously. So, yes, she is possessed, although probably not in the way Crowded House intended.

Due to an oversight of mine, we are staying only one night in the far north at Paihia. I booked our flights for 12 days not 12 nights, so we are a day short for exploration. But that didn’t stop us exploring on the way from Auckland. The first bit of excitement was driving across the harbour bridge. Yeah, nah. It doesn’t really measure up. I can’t even understand why anyone would bother to climb it. There are a number of other spots where you can get better views.

On our way to our first stop we passed through a lovely little beachside suburb called Orewa. Lovely beach, good assortment of shops and plenty cafés and restaurants. It would be well worth checking out – next time. One attraction somewhere beyond Orewa on the road to nowhere was … wait for it … Sheepworld. I kid you not. Sheepworld. I wonder what the main attraction would be? An intelligent sheep? Nah, they don’t exist. Maybe a freshly roasted leg of lamb? Jayne suggested dredging classes. Now that should send the younger generation to their keyboards and Dr Google. Whatever it is that was on offer, we’ll never know. Not even if I do come bye here again.

I have a question for you, one which I am unable to answer dear reader – if only because I am again without the internet. What is a Hospice Shop? We passed two of them today. I am assuming that the translation for hospice in NZ is not the same as we have in Australia.

Once out of the big city we passed the Champion Bakery at Wellsford in favour of La Nonna Italian Bakery at Kaiwaka. It was equally awarded and renowned for its pies, pastries and coffee. I’ll be the judge of that. The pie was first class – again, I haven’t had one disappoint since I arrived. There appear to be many small bakeries all doing their own thing and the produce is fresh and tasty. Australia was the same until mass production and shopping malls destroyed communities and community in favour of sameness and depersonalised service.

Anyway, La Nonna was very popular. The pie lived up to expectations but for the first time since I arrived on the sunny shore of the seventh state, the coffee was, meh. I was suspect about the coffee when I walked in and saw only take-away cups. I’m sorry my dear reader but the receptacle changes the flavour of the contents. I wouldn’t drink wine out of a paper cup and nor coffee, unless forced.

And then … wait for it … $20 for two coffees and two pies. Cash. No credit cards. Like, what? Where are we? What year is this? I had a little cash that I had been using sparingly on the trip. In my pocket I had $21.70. Just enough. A pity, because we would have liked to have purchased some of the delectable pastries to join us on the journey north.

Almost cashless, but hunger sated, we rejoined the highway and once again chanced the wiles of the GPS. The lookout at Waipu for views across the flat lands to the sea. Despite there being a signposted stop. Despite the area having been tarred and sealed and parking bays delineated. Despite there being a coffee truck open for business. The first signs you see when you get out of the car are “Private Property” “No Trespassing” “No access”.  “Area monitored by CCTV”. “Trespassers will be hit with sticks”. I thought we’d come to the wrong place, but no. There was a goat track, unsealed, that ran along the outside of the fence up to a high point with fairly good views. Not as good as the top of the hill from which we had just descended by car. Nor as good as those that could be obtained if the farmer had moved his coffee truck (it was a permanent establishment) and fence line back 10 metres. If you don’t want people on your property, that is fine and completely understandable. However, is there line between ‘stay out’ and profiting from the tourist trade by setting up a coffee truck? While we there the milkman arrived with about 20 litres of milk for the coffee truck that were deposited in the refrigerated container, inside the forbidden fence line. The milko had the best view. Bastard.

Next stop, a waterfall. Who can resist a waterfall? Not me. At 26m the Whangarei Falls were a tad underwhelming. The area was popular, there were very few car spots in the parking area. Although, it appeared some were semi-permanent and had a clothes line set up in the shade of the trees. Hillbilly cousins. More dreadlocks than a reggae festival.

The falls were quite close to the car park, so we walked down took a few happy snaps and resumed our journey. You’ll never guess what we were heading for next? Another waterfall? A look out? A giant tree? A Maori site? Nope, all wrong. A public toilet.

The public toilet in Kawakawa is famous. Well in Kiwi it is. But before we could get there we had to fight with the GPS. Kawakawa was about 50km away, but the GPS decided it would be better to turn back in the opposite direction and crafted a 129km route to the same place. The fight was on. I ignored her direction; she’d recalculate to the correct destination and then when I wasn’t looking recalculate again to the over 100km route. This went on for 20km until she caved in. Possessed I tell you.

There was a massive sign noting the public toilet, encouraging tourists to turn off the main drive. And then, nothing. We drove carefully through the main street looking for a sign. Nothing. About half way a long I glimpsed something unusual, so we found a place to park and walked back. The amazing public toilet is certainly like no other public toilet, except for the smell. The architect, Hundertwasser by name, has used empty wine bottles in the walls to assist with the flow of light. Yep, that’s about it. I’m sure there is an entire house in Broken Hill or Lightning Ridge built entirely of bottles. It’s not new, just novel. This was, however, Hundertwasser’s swansong – he died not long after its creation.

Back on the road to Paihia, we scoped out where we were staying for the night and then pushed on to tick a few more tourist boxes. Next another falls, this one was the Haruru Falls. If the Whangarei Falls were underwhelmingly these were disappointing. I’ve jumped from bigger, although there was no-one swimming today. It wasn’t worth the walk from the car.

After a brief stop at Countdown, Woollies if you are Australian, we arrived at the Waitangi Treaty Ground. We have limited time and to do justice here we needed a couple of hours and to join the guided tour. Sadly, we headed back to the car. This is a next time experience – and we will be back.

On the way back to the bach, we sorted a place for dinner and made a reservation, Charlotte’s Kitchen. There are a lot of people around here. I wouldn’t want to be here on the day when school holidays finish and everyone is driving back to Auckland. Although we are leaving way too early and leaving behind plenty of things to see and do … next time.

And that is about it from the Northland. Charlotte’s Place, although recommended was a bit disappointing. It’s on the pier at Paihia with an excellent view over the water to Russell. They have the usual plastic screens to protect you from the weather and movable roof slats to allow the sun in. Once again, no oysters. For areas that rave about their oysters I’ve yet to be able to order any. At dinner time the only thing coming through the slats was a cold wind. It ensured the food got cold quickly and that I never got comfortable. That said, the the food was OK, but nothing to get excited about.

However, there was free Wifi which allowed me to send an email and check to see whether our bach has the internet. It does not. My fault. I booked it. Unforgivably stupid on my part. But seriously, who doesn’t have the internet? Can you imagine some Millennials turning up here and wondering what the TV is all about? Like, wow, it can’t stream. It’s free to air. Whoa, dinosaur age.

There will be one final post to draw together my reflections of New Zealand and the similarities and differences with Australia. In many ways NZ has out aussied Australia. Except with scooters. Like really?

Until next time.