Unable to reach the northern tip of the country due to flooding, Kelsey and I were faced with what might be the longest drive of our stay here. A few hours into the journey down the west coast of Northland and I had officially confirmed that the highway system of New Zealand is one punchline after another. In short bursts, the single lanes, endless curves, and fluctuating altitudes are heaps of fun making you feel like the world’s slowest performance driver. In the long term you begin to notice how fundamentally flawed the position of posted signs are as constant reminders of the 100 kph speed limit are sandwiched between turns so close to cliff edges that you’d be foolish to round them doing more than 35. Kelsey and I made a pact to never drive more than 4 hours in a day and never at night, if we can help it. Even with riding a car ferry to cut out a substantial portion of the road, the drive from Ahipara up near the southern tip of 90 mile beach to the coastal town of Piha, 45 minutes west of Auckland in the Waitekere Ranges took about 7 hours. I can imagine the distance between them ranges somewhere between 350 and 400km, in other words it was excruciatingly slow going. The drive itself was punctuated with highs and lows. The tallest kauri tree in New Zealand, Tane Mahuta (aka Lord of the Forest), greeted us in the Waipoua forest. We stopped for lunch in Dargaville, the sweet potato capital of New Zealand (yahoo!). While shopping for the evening’s dinner Kelsey was overcome with a craving for a hot dog and I thought to myself, who am I to deny such a request on a once-in-a-lifetime holiday? We poked into a tiny takeaway down the road and Kelsey inquired after one despite it not appearing on the menu. 10 minutes later she was issued a lukewarm corndog complete with a frozen core, possibly a kiwi delicacy, I’m not certain on that though. With our spirits dejected we pushed forward; luckily New Zealand is so damn pretty otherwise the grind of the drive may have driven us to start singing 90s pop tunes or playing I spy. A scenic lookout here and there eased us along and despite not having a phone number for the brand new hostel in Piha we decided to attempt it anyway, knowing full well that a lack of vacancy meant we would probably be sleeping in the car or on the beach. The road into Piha was the worst of all, with 30 minutes of signs politely asking you to accommodate bicycles while doing 70 down near vertical cliffs. Being in the southern hemisphere it turns pitch black just after 6 so we rolled into Jandal Palace in the dark. The owner, Geoff, was born in Toronto, raised as a child in Banff, but a kiwi at heart as he lived the majority of his childhood here. While probably only in the dying stages of his 20s his brain appeared to have succumbed entirely to the beach lifestyle. He spoke slow and childlike, and was nowhere to be found around 8 when the power went out as he had driven himself to the local pub, a 10 minute walk away. We were a little wary as this was the most we’d paid for a place yet, and for the $30 we were only getting a bunk in a dorm room, however this was easily the nicest hostel we’ve stayed at yet. It would be the equivalent of a $150 stay in some larger tourist trap but we were treated to a glorious, modern villa with spectacular views of the hills with a roaring fire by its spacious kitchen. Never again will I pay more than $30 for a room if I can find places like this all over New Zealand. We’ve been cooking in every night, half to save money and half because we enjoy the process. Kelsey makes a mean chicken fajita and I dabble in the breakfast process. After the immediate thrills of the bungee jump I am very much in love with the relaxed pace we’ve settled into these past few days. Early to bed, early to rise, while good homemade food, great views, and interesting company greet us every night. I should have no trouble settling into a carefree lifestyle in a single place once this holiday is over.
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