Poor Knights

The mandatory waterfall in Whangarei.

Yksi alkuperäisistä syistä lähteä Uuteen Seelantiin oli mahdollisuus sukeltaa uniikeissa kohteissa. Valinnanvaraa olisi ollut, lähtien toimivasta tulivuoresta ja päätyen luolasukelluksiin. Loppujen lopuksi aikataulumme tiukkeni niin, että päätimme viettää kolme viimeistä päiväämme Whangreissa, ja sukeltaa Knight Divers -nimisen, yhden miehen sukellusfirman kanssa Poor Kinghts -saarilla. Tonyn heikon sukellushistorian huomioon ottaen tämä järjestely oli parempi; tulivuoren rinteellä tai luolassa sukeltaminen ei olisi tullut kysymykseenkään, ja yksikseni meneminen tuntui tylsältä.

Kipparimme Don osoittautui yhdeksi niistä kovia työtunteja puurtavista miehistä, jotka ilmeisen tosissaan tykkäävät työstään. Hän halusi kovasti tarjota hyvän reissun vierailleen, omalla viivasuoralla tyylillään, pitäen turvatekijät jatkuvasti päällimäisinä. Yksi syy Donin pienehkön veneen valintaan oli se että vene oli nimenomaan pienehkö: Pelkoa 30 turistin laumassa sukeltamisesta ei ollut. Hintakin oli kohdallaan ja saimme lähes yksityiseen käyttöömme pari erittäin hyvää opasta, DJ:n ja Kayn. Sovimme, että DJ ottaa Tonyn siipiensä suojaan, kouluttaja kun oli, ainakin kahden ensimmäisen sukelluksen ajaksi.

One of the original reasons to travel to New Zealand was the possibility to dive in unique locations. There's lots to pick from, starting from diving on the slopes of a live volcano, and finishing to spectacular cave dives. In the end our schedule got so tight that we decided to dive in Poor Knights for the last three days of our trip. Taking into account Tony's weak diving history it was clear that we would not be diving together close to a volcano or in caves, and I decided it would be too boring to go by myself. We chose a one-man firm called the Knight Divers in Whangarei.

Our skipper Don turned out to be one of those hard working men, who really seem to enjoy what they're doing, despite the rough hours. He very much wanted to offer us a good trip, with his straightforward no-nonsense style, keeping the safety issues on top all the time. One important reason for choosing his boat was that it was relatively small: we would not need to suffer from diving with 30 other tourists. The price was spot on and we got almost to ourselves two very good guides, DJ and Kay. We agreed that DJ, being an instructor, would take extra care of Tony on his first two dives.

A boat emerging from Riko Riko cave.

Poor Knights on suojeltu alue, jonka saaret ovat tuliperäistä kiveä. Rannat ovat usein aivan äkkijyrkät ja saarille rantautuminen on paitsi ehdottoman kiellettyä, näköjään myös lähes mahdotonta. Paikallinen nähtävyys, Riko Riko luola, on maailman suurin meriluola, ja siellä on järjestetty jopa konsertteja. Jopa maailmankuulu Kiri Te Kanawa on laulanut täällä. Luolan akustiikka on uskomaton.

Poor Knights is a nature reserve area, and is formed by volcanic rock. The cliffs are often dead vertical, and getting to the shore is not only totally forbidden, but probably impossible. The local sight is definitely the Riko Riko cave, the worlds largest sea cave, where they have even organized concerts. World famous opera singer Kiri Te Kanawa has performed here. The acoustics of the cave are simply amazing.

Driving through a tunnel close to Blue Mao Mao wall.

Saarten luonteenomaisin piirre on murtuvat kiven muovaamat kaaret ja lyhyet läpikäytävät, joiden läpi voi hyvissä oloissa ajaa isollakin veneellä.

Very characteristic to the islands are sea arches and short tunnels forned by the crumbling rock. One can drive through them in good conditions even with a fairly large boat.

Middle Arch, our third-day location. Somewhere down there is the Bernie's cave.

Inside Riko Riko cave, or second day location.

Sukeltaminen kävi märkkiksillä, ja toiseksi päiväksi olin jo innoissani ostanut uuden tietokoneen (tiedoksi, hintaa tuli puolet siitä mitä täällä joutuisi pulittamaan). Alumiinitankkien kanssa oli välillä mielenkiintoista tasapainottaa, varsinkin kun Tony imi omansa lommoille ensimmäisillä kerroilla ja ajelehti sitten tyylikkäästi pintaan. Itse kietaisin ympärilleni niin paljon ylimääräistä, että alkumatkasta oli hankaluuksia pysyä pohjasta erossa. Nojoo, kaikkeen tottuu ja toisen päivän dyykit menivät jo ilman pohtimisia.

We were diving in wet suits, the water temperature being around 19 degrees celcius (all the way to 100 meters, Don said). The tricky business was to learn to trim with aluminium tanks. Especially Tony had some problems with his buoyancy, mostly because he sucked his tanks empty pretty quickly, and then floated with style up to the surface, despite of DJ hanging on to him. I managed to wrap my self up so well, that I had difficulties staying away from the floor at first. The second day saw us much more comfortable with our kit. 

Don having a break.

Our vessel, the Mercat. It even had a tiny kitchenette.

Veneen suhteen tuli tehtyä oikea valinta. Saarilla pörräsi myös kilpailijoiden paljon suurempia venekuntia, ja meno näytti onnettomalta. En ole varmaan koskaan nähnyt niin monen sukeltajan kasautuvan yhteen botskiin ja pyrkivän veteen. Järjestyksenpitäjillä mahtoi olla kova työ.

We had clearly made the right choice with the boat. There were some bigger boats floating around with ridiculous number of people aboard, trying to get to the water. It cannot be a fun job trying to organize a dive for so many people.

Stingray with a stubby tail. These guys were moving fast for the camera. The specimen above had a wing span of shy meter-n-half.

Poor Knights on veden alla jotain ihan muuta kuin mitä Itämerellä on tottunut, mikä ei varmaan ole yllätys kellekään. Juurikaan muita vesiä käymättömänä en voinut kuin puristaa kalakorttia ja kameraa ja yrittää napata edes jotain siitä paljoudesta, mitä luonnonsuojelualeella on nähtävissä.

Underwater Poor Knights is obviosuly something totally different from the Baltic sea. As I have not seen many other waters than the Baltic, all I could do was to squeeze my fish card and camera, and try to snap pictures of at least some of the riches one can see in the reservation area.

Pale polyps on colourful bedding.

Blue Mao Mao fish. These were everywhere. They come in two shades, at least. I thought I saw black ones, too.

Surfacing in Bernie's cave 8m under water. I was keen to breath from my tank fairly soon after this snap.

Paras sukellus? Täytyy sanoa, että hankala vertailu on kyseessä. Bernie's cave oli yksi hauskimmista sukelluksista mitä olen tehnyt, mutta tämänkin edelle täytyy laittaa sukeltaminen Riko Riko luolan hämäryydessä. Ilman suoraa auringonvaloa luolan pohja on tuliperäisine kivineen kuin kuumaisema, jossa pyörii hämmentävä määrä kaloja. Luolan suuaukolle uitaessa valon määrä kasvaa, ja yhtäkkiä ympärille ilmaantuu värikäs kasvien ja korallien maailma.

The best dive? That's a hard one. Diving in Bernie's cave was very fun indeed, but even ahead of that I have to put the Riko Riko cave. Starting from the dark depths of the cave there is no direct sunlight, and no vegetation. The volcanic rock base forms an environment almost straight from the surface of the moon. Except for the confusing number of fish swimming around. When one approaches the mouth of the cave, and the light gets stronger, suddenly the colors of vegetation and corals appear around you, making it look like you had just stepped out from a cellar to a sunny jungle.

Waitomo and its bright inhabitants

Although we went to Waitomo with caving in mind, we had to appreciate the scenery and the forces which drove the formation of these caves. Waitomo is a rural area, the sky was blue the grass was lush and green and the dairy farmers must have been happy, except for the occasional disappearance of the odd member of their flock. The bedrock is marble and the slightly acidic rain had worked it into some surreal formations, but it also carved huge cow-eating sink holes. The water that ran through these had formed the caverns we had explored yesterday.

A peaceful view of New Zealand Agriculture

The water wasn't only moving below the surface, which allowed our new hobby of photographing waterfalls.

The mighty Marokopa Falls

One of the sights that draws tourists towards the caves are the glow worms. Now, we don't really know who is reading this blog - but we suspect that the audience might be over represented by biologists. This one is for you. The glow worms in Waitomo are Arachnocampa luminosa. They are not worms at all, but resemble them during their larval stage before they pupate to an adult fly. The larvae make a structure resembling a hammock out of silk thread on the roof of a cave and then suspend a series of free hanging lines to catch prey. They glow in order to attract prey. Now, among the biologists reading this blog there may be a sizeable subsection of molecular biologists, skip this section. The glow worms glow because of a chemical reaction where the waste product luciferin is oxidised, a process that is catalysed by the protein luciferase. Discovering this made me terribly excited. Engineering the luciferase gene into plants is one thing that we can do to visualise where genes are expressed. I knew that the gene originally came from fireflies in Africa, it probably shouldn't have been such a surprise to hear about a similar reaction in the bums of New Zealand glow worms.

A pair of glow worms in a small cave.

Many glow worms hanging in the forest. Each glow worm seems to fluoresce with a different intensity; the hungrier the glow worm the more light it emits. 5 second exposure.

The Lost World

Matkaa suunnitellessa alkuun oli varmaa vain yksi asia: Waitomon luolat on nähtävä. Pohjoissaaren kalkkikivikallioon on erityisesti Waitomon alueella muovautunut uskomattoman laaja luolaverkosto, joka tarjoaa loputtoman leikkikentän paikallisille hurjapäille. Lisäksi paikallinen eläinmaailman kuuluisuus, Arachnocampa luminosa, eli kiiltomato, joka on uniikki Uuden Seelannin asukas, houkutteli yrittämään kunnianhimoisia valokuvia.

When we were just planning the trip, only one thing was certain: We would have to see the caves of Waitomo. The local limestone has been morphed in to an incredibly wast network of caves, which offers an endless play ground for the local dare-devils. Furthermore, a local more organic celebrity, the unique Arachnocampa luminosa or glowworm, lives in these caves, and that got us into a mood for trying some amitious photographing.

About to start a 100m abseil.

Aikamme etsittyämme löysimme porukan, joka järjesti lapsenmielisille aikuisille seikkailuretkiä eräisiin Waitomon erikoisimpiin luoliin. Firman kotisivulla on luokiteltu erilaisia retkiä ns. Rambo-luokituksella yhdestä kymppiin. Tarjolla oli mm. traktorin sisäkumeilla kellumista (rambo 4), kävleyretki ja tirolilainen köysirata (rambo 5), sekä Lost World luola, johon abseilataan 100m vapaasti (rambo 6). Sitten oli 7 tunnin mittainen seikkailu, joka alkoi tuolla 100m laskeutumisella, jatkui luolaston läpi tarpomisella, kahlaamisella, ja uimisella ja sai luokituksen rambo 8. Sinne siis.

With a little bit of seraching we found a group that took people with playful attitude to the more spectacular caves in the area. They had neatly categorized their tours using a so called Rambo -rating from one to ten. Different tours could be like floating with inner tubes around the caves (rambo 4), walking and using a tirolian traverse (rambo 5), and finally the Lost World cave, which takes a 100m free abseil to enter (rambo 6). Then there was an 7 hour epic, starting with that 100m abseil, continuing with scrambling, wading, and swimming through the cave system, and was classified as rambo 8. That was, clearly, for us.

100m down, looking from the starting platform.

Matka alkoi odotusten mukaisesti perhosilla vatsassa. Laskeutumisvälineenä ole meille uppo-outo vehje nimeltään 'rack', ja se näytti miniatyyri pyykkilaudalta, jonka läpi köysi pujoteltiin. Osoittautui tähän hommaan ihan oikealta valinnalta. Ryhmäämme kuului 5 muuta sporttisen näköistä kaveria ja kaksi opasta. Itse laskeutuminen osoittautui alkuun työlääksi, sillä köyttä joutui kiskomaan jonkin verran. Lopussa taas vauhti tuppasi kasvamaan, ja sain kietaista kumpparin varren köyden ympäri jarruksi.

The abseil started, as expected, with a little fluttering in the stomach. We abseiled with a thing called 'rack' that we had never seen before. It mostly resembled a miniature washing board (hence the name, I guess) through which the rope was running. It turned out to be very ideal indeed for this job. Our group had in addition to us 5 sporty looking fellows, plus two guides. The descent itself was at the beginning very hard work, as I had to feed to rope through with some force. Further down the going got easier, until I had to wrap my wellington around the rope to break.

Squeezing through one of the narrow bits.

Itse luola on valtava. Täältä on otettu varmaan miljoonia valokuvia tuhansiin matkaesitteisiin. Päivänvalo suodattuu alhaalta nousevan lämpimän usvan läpi luoden luolan avoimeen osaan epätodellisen valon. Kaikkialla on kalkkikiven omituisia muotoja, sileitä ja kummallisia. Vesi on hallitseva elementti heti kiven jälkeen. 

The cave itself is gigantic. This is the place where they must have taken millions of photos for thousands of travel brochures. The light is filtered through the warm mist rising from the cave giving the whole place an unearthly illumination. All around you there are limestone shapes, weird and smooth and alien.

The view from below. I could have spent hours just admiring the beatiful, soft light the place has.

Teetauon jälkeen oppaamme päättivät, että näytimme kyllin kykeneviltä pieneen sivuretkeen, ennen varsinaiseen luolastoon pyrkimistä. Lähdimme katsomaan vanhaa, sokeaa, luola-ankeriasta. Ankeriaan luolaan piti kulkea kapeaa veden uurtamaa väylää pitkin, ja välillä uitiin. vesi oli yllättävän lämmintä, varmasti parikymmenasteista. Oppaat olivat varustautuneet kinkkuviipaleilla, ja kohta saimme pällistellä ahnasta, valkeaa ankeriaankitaa. Kun olimme viihdyttäneet vanhaa kalaa (voivat elää 60 vuotiaiksi) tarpeeksi, käännyimme kohti pääluolaa, josta jatkoimme itse luolastoon.

Our guides, after offering us a cup of tea and sandwiches, decided that we looked fit enough to do a little side-trip, before entering the actual tour. So we went to see an old eel. Might not sound too exciting, but the life of an eel can be as long as 60 years, and this one was old, blind, and used to regular feeding with sliced ham. Equipped with slices of the necessary ham, we followed a narrow waterway, occasionally swimming in the stream, to the eels cave. And soon we could gape at the white, hungry mouth of the old eel. After we had entertained the old fish enough, we turned back to the main cave, and started our tour.

Baby-eel. It came here from the sea, and has a long way to climb up the underworld river. When it reaches it's new home, it can thrive there many decades, before it's instincts drive it out to the sea, to breed. It's like with salmon, only the other way round...

Luolaston läpimeno osoittautui todelliseksi hurlumheiksi. Tämä on todellakin lapsellisten aikuisten harrastus. Ryömittiin ja puristauduttiin epätodennäköisten reikien ja tunneleiden läpi, hypitiin metrikaupalla altaisiin säkkipimeässä, saatiin hyvää treeniä kiipeämällä kielekkeelle ja hyppäämällä taas alas altaaseen yhä uudelleen ja uudelleen. Suurimman loiskauksen aikaansaaja sai nauttia yleisestä arvostuksesta. Tämän lopuksi kävelimme pitkän tunnelin läpi, jonka seinät olivat kirjaimellisesti täynnä ostereiden fossiileja, ja mikä oudointa, ostereiden helmien fossiileja.

Getting through the cave system was enormous fun. This truly is the play ground for adults, who do not want to take things too seriously. We grawled through improbable squeezes, jumped many meters down to a pool in total blackness, had a good exercise climbing up to a narrow rock ledge and jumping back down to a large pool again and again and again (the one making the biggest splash got the general approval of the group), and walked through a long tunnel littered with fossils of oysters and (imagine!) their pearls.

An underground waterfall, with some photogenic properties.

Lopulta, kun tunnelin loppu alkoi jo häämöttää, pysähdyimme vetämään henkeä ja sammutimme kaikkien valot. Hetken kuluttua pimeässä alkoi näkyä loistavia, sinisiä valopilkkuja, jotka tuntuivat kirkastuvan sitä mukaa kun silmät tottuivat pimeään. Lopulta sinisessä hämyssä alkoi erottaa luolan yksityiskohtia. Kiiltomadot pitivät parasta esitystään meille luolan katossa, muodostaen sinisen tähtitaivaan maan alle. Tätä katsellessa lepuutimme jalkojamme täydellisessä hiljaisuudessa. Aiemmin meluisa ryhmämme ei hiiskahtanutkaan moneen minuuttiin.

Finally, when we were approaching the end of the tunnel, we stopped for a break, and switched our lights off. In a few moments we could start seeing blue dots of light, getting brighter as our eyes got more used to the darkness. Finally it was possible to see details of the cave in the blue, cold light. Glowworms were giving their best performance in the ceiling of the cave, creating a field of stars under ground. Looking at these odd constellations, we rested our limbs in total silence. Our noisy group didn't utter a sound for many minutes.

Awestruck.

Päivä päättyi lopulta reippaaseen kävelyyn lammashaan halki ja pienelle vajalle, josta olimme lähteneet aamulla. Yksi oppaistamme oli livistänyt edeltäkäsin valmistamaan ruokaa, sillä välin kun ihastelimme valoshowta. Tarjolla oli erittäin tukeva grilli-illallinen, ja se tuli kyllä hotkittua hyvällä ruokahalulla. Oppaatkin innostuivat kiittelemään, kuinka hyvässä porukassa olimme kulkeneet Lost World -luolan läpi. He toivovat osallistujilta oikeaa asennetta ja halua yrittää hölmöjä juttuja, vaikkei niistä tyylikkäästi selviäisikään. Olimme suoriutuneet kaikesta minkä he keksivät meillä teettää, ja olivat varsin tyytyväisiä retkeen. Täytyy todeta, että varsin tyytyväisiä olimme mekin!

The day ended in a brisk walk through a field and to the shed where we had started. One of our guides had silently left us, when we were admiding the show in the cave, and had prepared us a nice barbeque-dinner. We ate it all with good appetite. Our guides told us how good a group we had managed to put together. All they wish from their customers is some attitude and willingness to do slightly stupid things, even if one could not do them with full style. We had managed to do everything they could throw at us, and they were quite pleased. I have to say, so were we!

 

42 Traverse

Tongariron "42 Traverse" on raakattu Uuden Seelannin parhaimmaksi maastopyöräreitiksi. Koskapa siippani Tony on asiaa enemmänkin harrastanut, sinnehän sitä piti mennä. Ero edellispäivän vaellussäähän oli melkoinen: aurinko porotti täysillä eikä pilvenhattaroita juurikaan ollut luvassa. Suurin osa eilisen sään säikäyttämistä turisteista oli päättänyt lähteä Tongariron poikkikulkuun tänään, ja saimme olla maastopyöräreitillä ylhäisessä yksinäisyydessämme.

Tongariro "42 Traverse" is claimed to be the best mountain bike route in New Zealand. Because Tony has done some mountain biking before, he obviously wanted to give it go. The weather compared to the trekking day before, was quite different. The sun was full in the sky, and there were no clouds appearing anywhere. Most of the tourists scared by yesterdays weather, had decided to do the Tongariro Crossing today, so we had the Traverse all to ourselves.

42 Traverse topograph. It is 'mostly downhill'.

Nimen "42" tulee reitin pituudesta. Matkaa on 42 kilometriä vuorenrinnettä alas, enimmäkseen alamäkeä. Tämä ei ole ihan koko totuus. Molemmissä päissä on lisäksi 6km lähestymis- ja poistumisosuudet, jotka siis pistävät reittiin 12km lisää. Lisäksi se 'enimmäkseen alamäkeä' ei kerro sitä, että alamäet ovat turvallisia vain pienille nelivetomönkijöille, ja koostuvat joko märästä savesta, tai pään kokoisista lohkareista, tai märässä savessa uivista pään kokoisista lohkareista. Välillä on erittäin karkeaa soraa, jonka läpi polkeminen pienimmällä mahdollisella vaihteella ylämäkeen ei yksinkertaisesti onnistu.

The "42" in the name comes from the length of the trail. It is 42 kilometers down the mountain, mostly downhill. This, however, is not the entire truth. Both ends of the trail are at least 6km away from the nearest roads, which adds an extra 12km to the trip. In addition, the 'mostly downhill' does not tell anything about the fact that the route is only safe for small quad-bikes, consists mostly of boulders the size of ones head, or of wet mud, or of boulders swimming in the wet mud. Occasionally theres very rough and loose gravel, which makes it virtually impossible to cycle uphill on lowest possible gear, which you have to do alot.

Views from the route.

More views. At this point I still had energy to admire them.

Reitin varrella on muutamia jokia, joiden poikki pääsee joko kantamalla pyörää, tai ajamalla täysillä niiden poikki. Kaikenkaikkiaan reitti on kaunis, jos energiaa riittää sitä ihailemaan, huolimatta vaarallisuudestaan ja vaativista ylämäistään. Varsinkin alamäet olivat suorastaan pelottavia. Hartioitani särki vielä pari päivää reissun jälkeen, pelkästään jarrujen puristamisesta. Enimmäkseen valutin pyörää alaspäin melkein ryömintävauhtia. Sen voin ylpeänä todeta, että yhtään alamäkeä en taluttanut, tai kantanut pyörää, vaikka ajatus kyllä kävi mielessä.

The route, despite the danger and strenous uphills, is in itself very beautiful, provided you have energy to admire it. There are some river crossings, where you have to carry your bike, and smaller ones, which one may want to drive through with full speed. The down hills are outright terrifying, at least for me. My shoulders ached for days after the tour, as I was constantly squeezing the breaks in an effort of trying to keep the bike, if not quite stationary, than at least moving at crawling speed.

The photos don't really give away the steepness of the route.

Crossing a miniscule stream, no bike carrying required here.

42 Traverse on ehdottomasti fyysisesti rankin juttu, mitää täällä on tullut tehtyä. Viimeisellä 4km pituisella ylämäkiosuudella, ennen pientä kylää josta meidät tultiin noutamaan, sain kunnon tilaisuuden kirota ja meuhkata pyörää ja aurinkoa, varsinkin kun Tonya ei näkynyt missään lähistöllä kuuntelemassa. Kaikista aktiviteeteista, mitä Uudessa Seelannissa olemme läpikäyneet, maastopyöräily vuorenrinteillä on ehdottomasti viimeisenä suosikkilistallani. Epäilen kovasti, josko koskaan tulen sitä enää harrastamaan.

The Traverse was definitely the most strenous of all the things we've been doing here. In the last kilometers before arriving to our pick-up place in a small village, the 4 km long uphill gave me numerous opportunities to curse and swear outloud, especially when Tony was nowhere near to listen to it. I have to say, of all the activities that we got trough in New Zealand, mountain biking is probably my least favorite. I seriously doubt if I will be doing it again.

Sandy bits were ok. Except in uphill.

Tongariro crossing

In a country that sells itself on extreme sports, it's not surprising to find that wherever you look the locals are marketing their trip as the best in New Zealand. Consistent with this, the Tongariro Crossing is supposed to be THE best one day hike in New Zealand. I'm always a bit sceptical of claims like these, and it leads me to think that the Tongariro Crossing is perhaps the busiest one day hike in New Zealand. However, when it comes to it, we didn't want to miss out on this.

The crossing goes through some dramatic and unforgettable scenery. The 18.5 km track crosses a saddle between the Tongariro and Nagauruhoe volcanoes which rise suddenly out of the plains of central North Island. The trail is billed as a demanding alpine track that takes between 7 and 9h. The weather on the top can be different from that at the base and it's recommended to be prepared to turn back when the visibility is poor or in strong winds.

Of course poor visibility or strong winds are fairly relative, and with this in mind we booked transport to and from the start and finish of the track for the next day, despite the poor weather forecast. The alarm went early in the morning, a glance out the window confirmed that the weather was far from perfect, and not being disheartened I cheerfully pointed out that it'd be just like Scotland. "Or Finland", Anni added. The majority of other people who had signed up for transport cancelled, clearly having no desire to go hiking in what resembled Scottish weather. I was quietly relieved, that today was one of the few days where the Tongariro Crossing was probably not the busiest trek in New Zealand.

The bus driver didn't inspire much confidence when he said that if it was up to him he wouldn't allow people to go up the mountains as it was much too dangerous in this kind of weather. We didn't pay much heed to his warnings of getting lost, although we did take the precaution of back plotting our trail on the GPS. We set off from the car park in drizzle and imperfect visibility. I wouldn't have described the conditions as dangerous, the weather forecast suggested that we'd get wet, we wouldn't have great views but didn't look like we'd be in for any trouble, and the our current observations didn't suggest any differently. We started up the marked and really fairly obvious trail, wondering what the bus driver would have said if he'd seen the conditions in which we'd tried to climb Foggy Peak.

View of Mount Ngauruhoe, famous to Lord of the Rings fans as Mount Doom

We'd hiked "primative trails" in America, and knew that when the tourist board say strenuous or poorly marked, that they probably mean that the trail isn't made of asphalt. We expected differently, of the Kiwis. The trail began with a gently rising and well graded path. The trail then rose steeply to a col between the two mountains, and for two fairly fit people provided little challenge. As we reached the top the cloud rolled in and reduced visibility to a few tens of meters. You might think that navigating through a col between two mountains in poor visibility wouldn't be too difficult. You'd have distinctive contours on either side to navigate from, you could take a bearing from the compass and following mountain spurs can't be too challenging. Indeed it wasn't too challenging; there was a wand placed every ten meters, so even if all but closed your eyes navigation would be bare blåbær (only blueberries).

Bleak scenery between the two craters.

The views of Tongariro were constantly obscured by low cloud.

Your not particularly wet correspondents looking undaunted close to the high point.

After a couple of hours of uphill walking we reached the Red Crater, which unfortunately we couldn't see. At 1900m, this formed the high point of our trek. Although the track had gained about 1000m in a shy 9km, it hadn't felt either demanding or dangerous. For two Europeans, a more daunting task would have been to do it in full sun! The track had past through some eerie and near lifeless scenery. We walked over lava fields inhabited only by lichen and the odd mountain daisy. The mist added to the atmosphere and gave the whole place an otherworldly feel.

From now, the trail descended. We stopped by the Emerald Lakes. Although partly hidden by the mist, we could see how they got their name. The colour is caused by minerals leaching out of the volcanic rock. We didn't linger long amid the sulphurous smell, but continued downhill.

On the shore of one of the Emerald Lakes.

Minerals leached from surrounding rocks.

As we descended the lifeless lava gave way to grassy and boggy slopes and finally forest. Streams ran down the mountain bringing with them the stench of amonia and sulphur. Acrid steam clouds billowed up from springs on the mountain side. Although we'd left the summit zone, it seemed that Tongariro wanted to remind us it was still a volcano.

Steam rising from Ketatahi Springs

Five hours after starting we arrived at the car park at the end of the trail, a good three hours before the bus was due to pick us up. We'd done a fantastic trek. The weather had added to the atmosphere, but never felt threatening. We'd avoided the crowds, we'd avoided the heat and we were pretty pleased with ourselves. After deciding not to wait for the bus and hitching back to the hostel and eating chicken burgers, we find ourselves hiking and photographing yet another waterfall and using our excess energy at the climbing wall in the hostel. No one had exaggerated the splendour of the Tongariro crossing, but we felt the difficulty had seen considerable escalation. There seems a fine line between warning the general tourist and giving accurate information about treks. When activities that are billed as strenuous aren't really, you end up in a "cry wolf" situation. We were entering this dangerous territory, tomorrow we were going mountain biking on a "demanding" trail. Despite the fact that I hadn't ridden anything more demanding than a gravel track for years and Anni hadn't ever been mountain biking, we were of the opinion that the New Zealand tourist definition of demanding would only make a fat middle aged person out of breath. But the next day we learned differently......

Mussels in Havelock

This blog was always intended to be describe daring adventures ( or short climbs) demanding hikes in wild places (or gentle strolls to photograph waterfalls). It was never intended to provide culinary critique, but in continuation of a series of posts about the excellent coffee, fruit and wine of New Zealand, it seems necessary to add seafood to the list.

We actually ate out very little during our three week stay in New Zealand, but one meal that stands out is mussels in Havelock. We decided to break our journey between Takaka in the South Island and Tongariro in the North Island at Havelock entirely because of the description in the guidebook. "Havelock is where the produce from the 200 mussel farms within the Marlborough Sounds are taken to be processed. It calls itself the Green-lipped Mussel Capital of the world, which is not a title that anyone would seriously want to challenge." And what else is there to do in Havelock but eat mussels.

One of many restaurants specialising in mussels

After a shared starter we set to work on eating mussel platters at the Clansman restaurant. The green-lipped mussels are larger and have a superior flavour to any I have previously tasted. The platter must have contained over 40 mussels, and getting through these was as daunting a task as pulling on the slopers of Payne's Ford.

Anni with her mussel platter. This included steamed mussels in their shell, grilled mussels, marinated mussels, beer battered mussels and mussel patties.

Wine tasting in Marlborough

Vineyard, grape unknown.

Uuden Seelannin viinit ovat lähteneet tosissaan maailmalle vasta aivan viime vuosina. Marlborough sijaitsee eteläsaaren pohjoisosassa, ja siellä viini kasvaa subtrooppisissa oloissa. Tunnetuimmat ja parhaiten onnistuneet viinit ovat yleensä Chardonnay ja Sauvignon Blanc, ja muutoinkin tuotanto on valkoviinipainoitteista. Täällä kesät voivat olla hyvinkin sateisia ja kuumuutta ja kuivuutta vaativat viinit onnistuvat vain silloin tällöin. Pinot Noir on lähes joka viinitarhan valikoimassa, mutta taso on vähintään häilyvää.

Abel Tasmanin ja kiipeilyn päätteeksi otimme suunnan kohti Pictonia, ja siinä Marlboroughn läpi ajaessamme poikkesimme kolmella eri viinitilalla. Ostimme koko loppureissun ajaksi yhden viinipullon per jäljelläoleva ilta maistelujen perusteella. Lyhyesti: Minua kiehtoi enemmän paikallinen Riesling, kuin mainostettu Chardonnay. Ainakin viime vuosi ja 2006 ovat kohdelleet Rieslingiä hyvin, ja sitä keräsimme jonkin verran mukaan. Pinot Noiria lähdin oikeastaan etsimään, mutta pettymystään seurasi toinen, kunnes lopulta löysimme viinitilan, jossa tarjottiin 2006 erittäin hienoa tuotosta, mistä oli 'nuoruus' kaukana.

Vihje: Paikalliset tuskin lähettävät 2008 Chardonnayta ja Pinot Noiria ulkomaille, niin heikolta niiden osalta näyttää. Jos kuitenkin satutte saamaan käsiinne 2006 satoa, niin onni voi potkaista. Sauvignon Blancia en osaa arvostella, se ei oikein säväyttänyt minua missään.

New Zealand has stepped on the wine map quite recently. Especially Marlborough region is famous for its whites, Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc. After Abel Tasman and sweaty climbing we headed towards Picton, and whilst driving through Marlborough, we stopped on three vineyards to taste the local products. In the end we managed to approve of and buy a bottle for each night of the rest of our trip.

I was quite a lot more impressed by the local Riesling, than the famous Chardonnay. Especially last year and 2006 were of notable quality. Marlborough is mainly a white wine area, although each vineyard produces small amounts of Pinot Noir, too. Marlborough being almost sub-tropical, most wines are doing quite well. The catch is in the word 'almost'. Many summers are quite wet, and wines requiring heat and dryness do not come up as often as the locals would like. I myself was after Pinot Noir, but had to face disappointment after disappointment, until at the very end of our tour, one vineyard offered us a really fine quality wine from 2006.

Hint: New Zealand wine producers are probably not going to send out huge amounts of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir from last year, the quality is really not that good. If, however, you happen the get your paws on something from 2006, try that: you might be pleasantly surprised. I'm not saying anything about the prospects of Sauvignon Blanc. I don't really know the wine and nothing impressed me, actually.

Last but not least: Why oh why do we have to suffer from 20kg restrictions on Finnair flights to NZ? Nothing would have pleased me more than the ability to pick a couple of nice special bottles and bring them home...

Kiwi as......

The New Zealanders seem proud of their country and when describing something as Kiwi don't only mean that it comes from New Zealand but that it echoes the sentiment that everything should be the best it could possibly be. Even listening to the radio, the message came clearly, "whatever you do, do it to the best of your ability and take pride in being a Kiwi".

Of course New Zealanders have a lot to be proud of. Not only do they have an incredibly beautiful country, but they also have fantastic food. When we walked through the supermarket, the produce was all marked New Zealand apples, New Zealand pears, New Zealand mandarins, in fact New Zealand almost everything. We did a lot of driving, and passed many farms. Most of these had small stores where you could take the local produce and put a few dollars in an honesty box. This way we stocked up on fruit and enjoyed the local plums, peaches, strawberries, boysenberries and whatever else happened to be in season. The New Zealanders have a lot to be proud of, and great fruit is certainly one of them, or as they would say themselves it's "Kiwi as, bro".

Kiwi fruits on a tree in New Zealand.

Pupu Springs

While the sun blazed down on Takaka and made climbing near impossible, we looked for new ways to cool down. Luckily Payne's Ford is blessed with several swimming holes with cold water. We explored these a little more. The pictures all come from Pupu springs which boasts to have the clearest water in the planet. Unfortunately, swimming was banned in order to protect the pure water quality, and we had to take more drastic measures to cool down.

The crystal clear waters of Pupu springs.

The clarity of the water made estimating the depth deceptive; this submerged tree was probably at a depth of about 8m.

The water came straight from underground and was extremely frigid.

Sweltering in the sun as temperatures were in the thirties and merely staring at cold water wasn't doing the trick of cooling us down. The only place we could think of that would cool us was our air conditioned hire car, solely with the aim of escaping the heat we decided to drive north to Wharaniki, the most northerly point on the South Island.

I should point out at this stage that Takaka and indeed Abel Tasman are sheltered in The Golden Bay under the protection of the most enormous spit I have ever seen. As we drove North the land to the West got steeper and steeper, finally as we approached the northerly tip we crossed the hills and were blasted by strong wind and drizzle, and moreover, it felt unbelievably quite cool. The weather was so bad, it not only felt like Scotland but the camera stayed safely in the car. I'm sure what we saw was North Cape on a fine day. The vegetation was dwarfed and all the trees bent dramatically towards the land. After a couple of hours the novelty of being blasted by wind and rain wore down and we drove back to Takaka, within a few tens of minutes we were back to a breezeless scorching day.

Climbing in Takaka

If you're going to climb in New Zealand - you better get use to slopers.

There are many different types of climbing holds. Some rock types are characterized by a certain type of hold - and without a doubt for New Zealand limestone - it's the sloper. Everyones favourite type of hold is the jug. This refers to anything that is large and easy to hold (like a jug handle). Unfortunately, they are reasonably rare, although the Blue Mountain sandstone seemed to be blessed with more than its fair share of them.

In Finland we climb granite and are mainly on cracks and crimps. I love climbing cracks, Anni hates it. You simply stick your hand in, contort it to a different possition and pull away. Crimps are small edges. They look tiny, but tend to be sharp and as we would say "positive". Think about pulling on the door frame, with a little training and strong fingers you can perform pull ups on surprisingly small edges. As I said we climb granite and are mostly using cracks and crimps - I wouldn't want to say that we are good at them, but perhaps we can say they are our best holds.

We also climb indoors on plastic, and plastic prepares you well for some of the other types of holds - pinches and pockets. Infact, anyone who climbs indoors regulary also becomes remarkably proficient in putting two fingers in a rounded hole and pulling on them. I don't know anyone who likes pinches. I don't expect anyone to write a comment claiming that they do. Normally, one can avoid them but the route setters of indoor problems aren't so kind and by climbing indoors you get OK at pinching all manner of strange knobs.

This brings us to slopers. These are often large holds, sometimes they look like jugs but when you put your hands onto them you soon realize that there isn't much to grip. Imagine half a football stuck to the wall. Imagine trying to pull on it, you're not doing a bad job of imagining New Zealand climbing. Now, if we had read our own advice we could have practiced them indoors, but they have been something of a nemesis to us and we had managed to avoid them. With this in
mind, we nervously went climbing in Takaka.

We'd heard that Payne's Ford was THE best sport climbing crag in New Zealand. We'd also heard that it was steep (in most places overhanging) and the climbing was mainly on slopers. We were told about the Pohara sea cliffs and that the climbing was more like "sloping edges". With this in mind, we tried Pohara first.

We had a pretty successful morning getting up 6 routes, each route felt better and we would have continued except the crag came into sun and with the temperature in the 30s - two pasty Northern Europeans didn't stand much chance. The sloping edges were far from reassuring but with the occasional pocket or pinch thrown in we got up several F6a+ routes.

With this increasing confidence, I announced that I'd try one of the overhanging routes as at only 6b - it couldn't be sloper after sloper. It could and it was. With just one rest on it, I pulled the ropes, left the draws in, rested for 5 mins, looked at the shade retreat from the route and claimed that I'd go for the red point. No such luck. After another rest on the third bolt I stripped the route and was prepared to leave the crag when Anni spotted a line. In the near blinding sun on a sweltering day, she found a route where the bottom two thirds seemed to be in at least partial shade. She charged up this with great speed only to come stuck where the sun blasted the route. I managed to finish it with sweat dripping from my brows, my sweaty fingers grabbing the sloping edges for all they were worth and my swollen feet slipping in my now saline lubricated shoes. Other people arrived, but for us there was no way we could climb anything more. We headed to the car, set the air conditioning to full and decided to get up earlier the next day.

The Pohara sea cliffs.

A typical insecure slopey edge.

Other parties join, regardless of the blazing sun.

We'd heard that Payne's Ford was THE best sport climbing crag in New Zealand. We'd also heard that it was steep (in most places overhanging) and the climbing was mainly on slopers. We were told about the Pohara sea cliffs and that the climbing was more like "sloping edges". With this in mind, we tried Pohara first.

We had a pretty successful morning getting up 6 routes, each route felt better and we would have continued except the crag came into sun and with the temperature in the 30s - two pasty Northern Europeans didn't stand much chance. The sloping edges were far from reassuring but with the occasional pocket or pinch thrown in we got up several F6a+ routes. With this increasing confidence, I announced that I'd try one of the overhanging routes as at only 6b - it couldn't be sloper after sloper. It could and it was. With just one rest on it, I pulled the ropes, left the draws in, rested for 5 mins, looked at the shade retreat from the route and claimed that I'd go for the red point. No such luck. After another rest on the third bolt I stripped the route and was prepared to leave the crag when Anni spotted a line. In the near blinding sun on a sweltering day, she found a route where the bottom two thirds seemed to be in at least partial shade. She charged up this with great speed only to come stuck where the sun blasted the route. I managed to finish it with sweat dripping from my brows, my sweaty fingers grabbing the sloping edges for all they were worth and my swollen feet slipping in my now saline lubricated shoes. Other people arrived, but for us there was no way we could climb anything more. We headed to the car, set the air conditioning to full and decided to get up earlier the next day.

At 06.30 I was prodding Anni awake. Although we were on holiday, I was determined that we get an early start, afterall if yesterday was anything to go by, at 10.00 it would start to get uncomfortable to climb. After some delay, We were at Payne's by 8.00am and staring up at a wall, without sloping edges but with true slopers, interspersed by a few pockets and even fewer crimps. We started with some small lines and with considerable umming and ahhing we both knocked off a 5+ and 6a. Just like yesterday, I spotted an overhanging line, that was again only 6b. Again I thought, at 6b there must be proper holds. After a few wild moves I'd climbed up past the second bolt and to the lip of the really steep ground, I had to pull over and on to the mere vertical but no matter how much I searched I couldn't find anything other than slopers and I couldn't pull on the slopers. After a rest, I found the same slopers and still couldn't pull on them. After pulling on the quickdraw, I got a little higher and found more slopers and couldn't pull on them. Remembering the advancing sun of yesterday, remembering that we were on holiday, that we were supposed to be enjoying ourselves and that it's no fun to hold the end of a rope when someone is blatantly not climbing an overhang, I retreated leaving a carabiner in place. Whoever climbs the route and pulls on the slopers above is welcome to it.

After some reappraisal it seemed like on both days we'd been doing well until I had decided that I could climb overhangs on slopers, and if we just avoided the overhangs we'd be OK. We finished the day with a great two pitch climb on near vertical ground with a difficult crux pulling through a small bulge (of course on slopers) and an endurance 25m line where virtually every hold was (as you can no doubt guess) a sloper. At the end of two mornings, there was no doubt that we improved. There was also no doubt that our forearms ached and a more relaxing activity was needed - we were going wine tasting.

Anni on a delicate slab

and me on another delicate slab

Abel Tasman

Abel Tasman Kansallispuisto on taatusti upeimpia puistoja koko eteläsaarella. Se sijaitsee aivan eteläsaaren pohjoisrannikolla, suojassa Tasmanian meren aalloilta. Sää on kesällä trooppinen, saapuessamme hakattiin lämpöennäyksiä. Vuokrasimme kahden melojan merikajakin kolmeksi päiväksi.
The Abel Tasman National Park is definitely one of the most gorgeous parks in the South Island. It is sheltered from the heavy seas of Tasman in a large bay, and harbours numerous beaches, wildlife and forests. We hired a double kayak for three days.

Water taxi about to unload. Very typical sight around here.

Vesitaxit surffasivat eestaas pitkin rantaa vieden kajakkeja ja melojia eri rannoille. Vesitaksi on itsessään melkoinen elämys. Koska lähtöpaikassa (tai missään) ei ole laitureita, taksit ajavat suoraan traktorin vetämään traileriin, ja traktori kiskoo veneen vedestä. Sitten vene kuskataan jonnekin kajakkivuokraamojen liepeille ja jengi hyppää kyytiin. Traktori kuskaa koko läjän rannalle, peruuttaa taksin veteen, ja taas mennään. Kajakkien lastaus toimii periaatteella: "Aina on tilaa yhdelle."

The water taxis surfed back and forth the coast dropping and picking kayaks and paddlers as they went. A taxi ride is an experience in itself. There are no jetties, so tractors pick the boats up from the surf, and drive them to be loaded inland. Then the tractors reverse the taxis back to the shallow surf, with the passengers.

The weather being gorgeous, and in the middle of the high season, this is how most of the beaches looked like. Onetahuti Bay, where the water taxi dropped us off.

Bark Bay, evening.

Reittimme käsitti kaksi yöpymistä teltassa retkeilyalueilla. Telttapaikat olivat Medlands ja Observation rannoilla. Sää pysyi hävyttömän hyvänä koko ajan.

Our route included two nights in a tent at the Medlands and Observation beaches. The weather did not let us down in all that time.

Bark Bay lagoon at low tide.

Aika nopeasti opimme seuraamaan vuorovettä. Korkean vuoroveden laguunit olivat upeaita, tosin emmen oikein onnistuneet ajastamaan melontaamme niin, että olisimme osuneet niihin korkean vuoroveden aikaan. Sen sijaan kävelimme niissä paljon. Melkein joka paikkaan pääsee jos ei pelkää kastumista. Kajakin vetäminen tarpeeksi korkealle rannalle yöksi oli myös jotain, jota ei mielellään unohtanut. Jos käännät täällä rannalle selkäsi edes puoleksi tunniksi, veneesi saattaa kellua kaukana ulapalla ja hiekalle jätetyt reppusi ovat puolen metrin syvyydessä.

One learns pretty quickly to follow the tides here. Especially, you need to keep your kayak safe even during the very short stops on the beaches. The high tide can come in amazingly quickly, and you do not want to turn your back on your kayak, unless it is moored high up on the beach. High tide lagoons are beautiful paddling places, we just managed to miss the tide almost always. Mostly we walked around, sometimes wading through chest deep water.

Torrent Bay, one of our lunch stops.

Torrent Bay had some weird rocks and caves.

Kolmen päivän melonta osoittautui varsin kevyeksi puuhaksi. Aamupäivällä meloimme kolmisen tuntia, mikä toi meidät käytännössä seuraavaan leiripaikkaan. Tämän jälkeen hohhailimme ympäriinsä tehden kaikenlaista. Veden kanssa puljaaminen on tietenkin pääasia, mutta vaeltelu sisämaahan osoittatui myös aika rattoisaksi. Tony onnistui snorklaamalla bongaamaan melkoisen määrän mereneläviä. Minulle vesi oli hiukan liian vilpakkaa sukelteluun.

Three days of paddling turned out to be not so strenous. In the morning we paddled about three hours, which took us to our next camping site. The rest of the day we had 'off', mostly meaning walking, snorkeling (Tony, too cold for my taste), and photographing. Some low tide traverse attempts between beaches were in the itinerary too, although these were not so successfull, and potentially could have made us very wet.

Little stream flowing to the sea at Observation Beach.

Observation Beach at dusk.

Observation Beach, kayak moored for the night.

Observation Beach, again at dusk.

Adele Island seen from the Observation Beach.

Star trails. Abel Tasman suffers very little from light pollution. The bright lights are sailing boats anchored in the shelter of Adele Island.

Jokaisessa paratiisissa on aina se käärme. Abel Tasmanissa kärmeen roolin ottaa ehdottomasti hiekkakärpänen, joka eniten muistuttaa kotoista mäkäräistä. Kuulimme inhottavia faktoja tästä ötökästä. Kuten kotonakin, kärpänen puraisee palan ihoa irti. Tämä on se reikä. Kutina syntyy siitä, että pureman jälkeen kärpänen pissii haavaan. Pikku pisu kutiaa päiväkausia ja on yksi inhottavimpia kokemuksia mitä täältä on tullut kerättyä. Et mitenkään voi unohtaa hyvää ötökkäkarkotinta repusta, muuten olet ongelmissa. Meidät pelasti norjalais-englantilais-ruotsalainen retkikunta. Kiitos heille.

In every paradise, there is a pest. In Abel Tasman it is certainly the sandfly. We heard some icky stories about these flies. Apparently they bite a chunk off you, like our homely midges do, and then they pee on you... This miniscule widdle is the thing that stings, and itches for days. Dirty.

Fisherman Island. Some free exploring amongst the low tide rocks.