I picked Napier, on the East coast, in between sits as had been told the weather’s much better there and has some very interesting architecture in the Art Deco style. It’s also in Hawke’s Bay, one of the famous wine regions of NZ. I’d booked 5 nights in an Airbnb. ‘Lonely Planet’ describes Napier as ‘a charismatic, sunny, composed city with the air of an affluent English seaside resort’.

The bus journey from Tauranga took 6 hours, including 2 stops, the lunch stop being at Taupo where I’ll be coming to later. Each time I got off I’d lost my seat, my last seat was next to a man called David, a retired English anaesthetist who settled in Rotorua 22 years ago. He told me a lot about his private life along the way, which rather surprised me so I reciprocated by telling him a bit about me! Well, we were never going to see each other again.

On arrival at Napier I was picked up by Beth, the lady of the house, married to Peter. The ad for their home stated they had one double room with shared bathroom, which led onto a sunroom and could additionally be rented out if more than 2 people, I presumed if a family was booking. So I was quite surprised to find that the sunroom had an occupant (Beth said an Indian girl, but with her NZ accent I thought she said “Andy and Gill” which was amusing) as there was a connecting door from my room with no lock. I discovered also that they never lock the back door which concerned me rather, so I didn’t need a key. I made a bit of a fuss about this but let it go as they said they had never had a problem before. I walked into town along the sea front, Marine Parade, and was quite disappointed with the beach which I’d expected to be white sand but was black, stony and pretty mucky. The sea however looked beautiful and there was an amazing sky:

After wandering around checking out the restaurants I selected ‘Indigo’ for an Indian meal. When I got back to the house, I joined Beth and Peter, who were watching television, and went to bed wondering how I could approach Peter about the extra booking of the sun room which I hadn’t been told about. In addition to the Indian girl, who I never actually saw, I was told there was an Indian man in the room also! Peter and Beth are such a lovely couple and I didn’t want to upset them by being my usual undiplomatic self and live up to our ‘whinging Pom’ character.

The next morning (Saturday 17th) I sat with Peter over breakfast. He’s quite chatty and we talked about all sorts while Beth was still in bed. I brought how surprises I was about the sunroom being let and he said he’d had to as her booking had come through (for my room but after I’d booked it) when his phone was off charge so he felt obliged to let her have the sunroom free. I understood that and let it go.

I decided to go to the Museum (MTG – museum, theatre, gallery) first of all as was interested in the history of the town which had been pretty much flattened by an earthquake measuring 7.8 on 3 February 1931 killing 256 people. Hawke’s Bay is one of the most seismically active regions of NZ and earthquakes can happen any time. People are reminded to check what to do to survive an earthquake and how to plan, prepare and recover. Upon rebuilding the town, most of the buildings in the centre were built in the Art Deco style, which is what Napier is famous for. There is an Art Deco Festival in the town every February which is very popular.

It’s a smart little museum incorporating a theatre/conference space and library. On the ground floor was a small Maori Gallery, the basement had a very good permanent exhibition of the 1931 earthquake with a film of ‘Survivor Stories’ none of whom can be alive now. On the top floor was a collection of silverware and a room about a Victorian family who’d immigrated to New Zealand. Bizarrely, in the silverware section, there was a young Japanese man playing classical music on the violin, no idea why.

I then took the very steep walk up to Bluff Hill lookout (most people sensibly drove up there) and was rewarded with good views above the port (a Customs port of entry since 1855) which every year coordinates the arrival of over 600 ships, more than 5 million tonnes of cargo and more than 70 cruise ships with 125,000 passengers. I was glad a cruise ship wasn’t arriving during my stay. Major exports include forestry products and refrigerated agricultural products such as meat, apples and squash; imports include fertiliser and oil products.

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On the way up to the lookout I’d met an English woman called Suzanne and her daughter Gabby. Gabby had deferred her Uni course and been travelling around NZ since February and her mother had come out to join her for 5 weeks. We ended up walking together and arrived at the Urban Winery, where I’d planned to go, so they decided to join me. There was a pleasant Argentinian man in charge and we paid $10 to taste 4 different Tony Bish wines and bought some olives, nuts and hummus to go with them. I thought at the time it was good value and liked the place which was in an Art Deco building named The National Tobacco Company Ltd.

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The National Tobacco Company was founded by a German immigrant, Gerard Husheer, in 1923. It prospered very quickly enabling Husheer to buy out the NZ Tobacco Company which he’d formed in 1913 but control of which had been wrested from him during World War I owing to his nationality. He became very wealthy but died in 1954. Shortly after, the firm was bought by Rothmans of Pall Mall then in 1999 merged with WD & HO Wills Ltd to form British American Tobacco Ltd.

I’d been planning to walk back to the Airbnb but when we left the winery it was dark and pouring with rain so shared a taxi with Suzanne and Gabby. When I got back there was a new person in the sunroom, a 29 year old Belgian called Olivia. So much for the one-off booking!

The next day, Sunday, after chatting with Olivia over breakfast, I took Leo, Peter and Beth’s nearly 10 year old cross Staffy and bulldog who had taken to me instantly and me to him, for an hour’s walk along the seafront as he hadn’t had one yesterday. On the way back it started to hail! So much for the lovely weather in Napier but then the weather in NZ can turn on a sixpence.

I then went to the Aquarium, actually the National Aquarium of NZ, arriving in time for the penguin feeding, most of whom had been rescued for various reasons. It was very cute. The. There was shark feeding for which two divers entered the glass tunnel, however the sharks didn’t appear interested but instead they were hassled by a stingray. I was rather disappointed with the Aquarium especially given its ‘National’ status. I then walked into town, had a late lunch in a cafe and back ‘home’ for another TV dinner with Peter, Beth and Olivia.

Monday proved to be rather better weather and I’d suggested to Olivia that she might like to accompany me for a cycle ride as Peter had two bicycles he lends out. This was brave of me as Olivia had told me she’d cycled around parts of NZ for some months with all her luggage but had since sold the bike. I’d heard that people cycled from vineyard to vineyard for wine tastings and the area has some great cycle trails.

We sent off along Marine Parade cycling east planning a first stop at ‘The Filter room’ suggested by Peter as it does tastings of craft beer (which Olivia liked) also different ciders which would have suited me. However, when we got there we discovered it was only open Thursday – Sunday which was rather disappointing.

Next stop was Peter’s favourite vineyard: Brookfields. This was founded in 1937 and Hawke’s Bay’s ‘oldest boutique’ winery. A lot of the wines are exported to China and London.We were told by John who met us that we were in luck as 45 minutes later a large group was arriving. After sampling a few different white, rose and red wines (one of which would cost £145 in a London restaurant) and more generous portions than the Urban Winery we were told there was no charge.

Before coming to Napier I’d decided I’d cycle to Hastings (that’s the NZ Hastings obviously!) a distance of 20km, so we made that our lunch stop. What we saw wasn’t particularly appealing, probably because it’s the commercial hub of the region, and we didn’t have much time to explore as wanted to get to another couple of wineries before dark. Hastings also suffered in the 1931 earthquake and has some Art Deco and Spanish Mission buildings, built in the aftermath.

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We had planned to go to two wineries that were next to each other but, in the end, only had time for one, Mission Estate, which I suggested as I’d drunk some of their wine. The building reminded me of a monastery in the Spanish style. The Estate was established in 1851 by the French Marist religious order and is NZ’s oldest winery with a well respected reputation at home and abroad. We paid just $6 for even more generous samples of about 7 wines and were given a glass in a box, which we both ended up giving to Peter to add to his collection as it wasn’t practical for us to carry them in our luggage.

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Peter had been offering us lifts to wherever we’d like to go but we’d both refused, preferring to either walk or cycle. However, we accepted a lift to Te Mata Peak the next day. I hadn’t heard of it so was glad Peter had mentioned it. It was a lovely journey up the peak on a windy road with fantastic views all around at the top. Like so many places in NZ it’s steeped in Maori legend. There were some very fit cyclists cycling up, and the area has a lot of walking tracks which we didn’t have time for as were dropping Olivia off on the main road to hitchhike her way to her next destination.

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I spent the afternoon walking around Napier taking pics of the Art Deco buildings before returning for my last TV dinner!

A selection of some of the Art Deco buildings in Napier:

I’d planned to take Leo for a long walk along the seafront on Wednesday 21st but rain stopped play, so I mooched about the house. It had just been Leo’s 10th birthday and he likes nothing more than to play with balloons, and pretty impressive too. I found it completely hilarious but unfortunately can’t post the video here as it won’t accept if with my free account, so posted it instead on Facebook and Twitter, the latter attracting 443 views at time of writing.

Peter gave me a lift to the Inter City bus stop in town for my 1.30pm bus to Palmerston North and my 4th NZ housesit. This Airbnb experience has indeed been wonderful and I couldn’t have met a nicer couple.

Jenny told me that I could have the morning (Saturday 3rd) to myself as she was running in her first half marathon, off road in Rotorua (81km from her home) and Pete was ferrying the girls to netball and hockey matches and no one would be back until the afternoon.

The girls seem to participate in a lot of sports for their young age. Ivy plays hockey, netball, taekwondo and water polo and Cora hockey, swimming and tap dancing. Pete cycles a lot and coaches one of the hockey teams and Jenny attends a running club 3 times per week. Wherever they go they have 10km to drive before getting to the main road and most things seem to happen in Tauranga, 16 km along that main road. Jenny and Pete are English and met in Taiwan where Jenny was teaching English and Pete was working there too. They have lived in NZ for about 15 years, moving to their current home 12 years ago. Pete works as a water treatment engineer in Auckland, staying there in the week, and Jenny as a copywriter for magazines and companies.

So I had my first morning to say hi to the alpacas, get to know Chewie (short for Chewbacca) the one year old Airedale Terrier (I hadn’t realised quite how big they are) and Lady, a 6 year old Cavoodle. Jenny had told me that I didn’t have to take the dogs out for walks as they are quite happy running around the paddocks for 30-40 minutes twice a day, but left details of several walks, three of which they could both go on together. One of these was just to the other end of the road which leads to a car park and bush walks, although the dogs aren’t allowed in the bush. In between downpours (not great weather) I took them for that walk and discovered that Chewie barks at cars, other animals in fact anything that moves. He’s quite big and strong and pulls hard on the lead.

The family returned mid afternoon and Pete showed me the alpacas’ feeding routine which is basically a bucket of alpaca pellets between them and making sure they’ve enough hay. There’s plenty of rain water around for them in various receptacles. Firstly they were moved into different fields, with 6 adolescents in one, 17 females and babies in another and poor Romeo, the only grown male, on his own. They all have names, after various Disney princesses, gods and goddesses etc. Jenny had told me that the alpacas are easier to look after than the dogs, and so it turned out to be. When I first applied for this housesit there were 30 alpacas, now there are 24 as some have been sold and the others turned into sausages and minced meat! Apparently alpaca meat tastes similar to venison, if you like that kind of thing!

There are also 3 cats, one of whom went awol a few months ago, another called Beast who I’ve seen but runs away if he sees me and a ginger cat called Eddie who is quite friendly, however the dogs have to be kept separate from the cats otherwise there’d be blood drawn! Poor Eddie has no tail as he lost it in a road accident before the family rescued him.

The girls sat watching tv with me (recordings of George Clarke’s Amazing Spaces) and Cora, of her own accord, laid her head against me and snuggled up, which I thought was quite sweet. She probably sees me as a substitute grandmother, hers both being in England! Pete drove 10km each way to the fish and chip shop which turned out to be my 3rd fish and chips meal in a week!

Nothing much happened on the Sunday, other than the family leaving at 0730 to travel to the airport for their flight to Fiji, me getting used to the house and animals and driving into Bethlehem (yes really!) the town before Tauranga for a shop at their big Countdown supermarket, which I really enjoyed. The weather was pretty awful all day but I managed to walk the dogs to the end of the road and back, and enjoyed feeding the alpacas. Monday was pretty similar, staying around the house and running the dogs in the paddocks. The dogs eat and sleep in cages on the deck at the back of the house. It feels rotten that they sleep outside in the cold when they’ve been snuggling up in the warm during the evening however, they seem to enjoy it and when I say “Bedtime” they run straight out to do a pee and then get into their cages to be locked up for the night after a treat.

Jenny uses a dog sitter, Jo, in Te Puna (which is where I got off the bus) and told me not to hesitate booking Chewie in as there are often rescue dogs and he’s good with them. It means that I can then take Lady out on her own who, unlike Chewie, is quite sociable with other dogs. I took Chewie to Jo’s on Tuesday 6th so I could take Lady for a walk along the beach near Mount Maunganui, which is at the head of a peninsula. The Mount can be seen from the house and I plan to walk up it when the weather’s fine and when I can book both dogs in with Jo. The Mount is often shrouded in mist and I’m waiting for the perfect opportunity to take a picture of it from the house. It was a lovely beach and Lady enjoyed running after a ball. She reminded me of Annie’s dog, Koura, who will run after a ball or frisbee all day given half a chance. In fact Lady looks a bit like a bigger Koura! Chewie was pleased to see me when I collected him.

Some of the alpacas will eat out of my hand, while others are too timid. They’re pretty docile although Chewie barks at them which unnerves them. They’re very curious about the dogs and come to greet me when I’m approaching. I just think what a great experience this is as how often am I likely to get the opportunity to look after alpacas? It’s like I’ve got my own mini zoo for a while. It’s true that they are easy but I count them every day just in case someone might have sneaked in during the night to steal a few. I’m sure the dogs would bark if that were to happen and they certainly couldn’t escape as the fencing is all quite secure.

Jo had said Chewie could go to hers again on Wednesday and as it looked like another fine day I accepted. A few people had suggested I go to Waihi Beach, 50 km in the direction I’d come from to get here, so I did. It was also a lovely beach and Lady spent two hours running after the ball, in and out of the sea, which possibly might have been too much but she could have gone on longer if I’d let her. I went into the little town for some lunch and a look at a couple of nice gift shops. I can’t really buy anything however as I’ll either have to carry it around (and there’s no space in my case) or post home at vast expense!

I picked another of the walks I could relatively safely walk the two dogs together on and on Thursday afternoon (8th) went to Puketoki Reserve, 5km down the road and off on the right. In 1926 a chap called Henry Havelock Sharplin donated 85 acres of native bush to the Whakamarama community which became this Reserve. He brought a small timber mill with him when he and his family arrived from Staveley near Ashburton in 1912 and established the Whakamarama Land and Timber Company. There is still evidence of the milling and it’s extensive tramway network in the reserve, extending far beyond the 85 acres (10km). Most of the timber was rimu and eventually shipped to Auckland. The business thrived until 1946.

There was a short loop and long loop, so I chose the long loop. It was ok until we met a young woman with dreadlocks and 2 hoola hoops at which Chewie took umbrage. I asked her what she did with the hoola hoops and she said “dancing”. Well, each to their own…! We then met a little pug, which should have been on a lead but wasn’t, and I thought Chewie was going to eat her!

The weather was pretty awful until Monday 12th. I’d been waiting for an opportunity to walk up Mount Maunganui and this seemed the perfect day. I’d been told dogs weren’t allowed on the Mount so booked Lady in at Jo’s with Chewie for the day.

Mount Maunganui (Mauao) is a historic reserve owned by Maori and managed by Tauranga City Council. It’s an extinct volcanic cone occupying a narrow peninsula in a small beach town called The Mount which has a lovely tranquil feel to it. It seemed odd to me that dogs aren’t allowed on the Mount as it’s sacred to the Maori people yet 4 wheel drive vehicles are! There is a 3.4 km base track and several tracks to the summit. I decided to walk the base track first, walking clockwise of course! The views were glorious all the way round, helped by the blue sky and sunshine. There was the possibility of spotting seals but I didn’t see any, sadly. There were a lot of fitness walkers and runners. I then walked to the summit and came down a different way to the beach on the opposite side.

A few views from Mount Maunganui:

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On Tuesday I dropped off Chewie again at Jo’s and took Lady on a walk around the Waikareao Estuary, a special ecological area. Nothing really exciting to say about this walk except that it was over 8km round, some of it on boardwalks, and gave Lady and me some good exercise.

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Wednesday 14th and, once again, I dropped Chewie off at Jo’s and took Lady to the Te Puna Quarry Park, just off the state highway and recommended by Jo. This was a wonderful place described as ‘a community development in the environmental arts’ with a variety of tracks leading to lots of different garden areas with varied plants including irises, heritage roses, cacti and magnolia, an Australian area, South African area, Japanese garden, native plants, ponds all of which are mostly looked after by volunteers. There were great views of the Mount and coast from the top of the quarry park via the Lion’s Steps. There were also a lot of sculptures and on leaving I noticed there was a sculpture guide. However, with Lady in tow, I didn’t take a great deal of notice and also thought it really wasn’t the ideal place to walk a dog even though they were allowed on leads.

The family was due back on Thursday 15th and, as it was a lovely day, I decided to go back to the Te Puna Quarry Park on my own to take some pictures and do the sculpture trail. I put the dogs in their pen, an enclosed area outside with two kennels, which Jenny had said to use when I went out or if I’d had enough of them. I’d only used it once when I initially went to the supermarket and hadn’t planned on using it again because they looked at me with such sad faces making me feel rather guilty. However, it was worth it for the greeting I got on my return: Chewie leaping up and down on his hind legs like a canine pogo stick, and Lady attempting to imitate him, then leaping up onto me when they were released. Jo had told me they liked their pen, but they didn’t appear to.

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The family arrived back at 5.30 pm and enjoyed the 3 course meal I’d prepared for them, apart from Ivy who wasn’t feeling well so went to bed.

It was an early rise on Friday as Jenny was taking me to the bus stop in Tauranga and dropping off Cora (Ivy still unwell) at school. Jenny then was off to her running club, which she attends 3 times a week, in preparation for her second half marathon in Sydney in September! Another housesit completed!

I was sad to leave Spike and Ted on Monday 29th July, especially leaving before the family returned, and savoured my last short walks with them along the boardwalk.

I then experienced my first Inter City bus which left Auckland at 1225 to arrive in Thames, on the west side of the Coromandel Peninsula at 1410. It was a double decker so I chose to sit on top, although the front seats with the best view had already been taken. I really enjoyed the journey once we got away from the city, with rolling fields interspersed with lots of small strangely shaped hills dotted about (no doubt formed as a result of volcanic activity) the odd farm but, otherwise, quite unpopulated. I guess that isn’t surprising given that a third of New Zealand’s entire population lives in Auckland.

Arriving too early to check into the Lady Bowen b & b that was to be home for the next 2 nights, I had tea and cake (becoming a habit) at a little cafe and got talking to the lady owner, Jude. When I told her where I was staying she said she hadn’t realised it was still going and that it had been a brothel!

The town itself has a look of the Wild West about it and I felt as if I’d stepped straight onto the set of a Western. The east side of the Coromandel Peninsula was the area where James Cook first set foot and also where the Maori first arrived. Cook named the town Thames because he thought the Waihou river, going inland from the town, was similar to London’s River Thames. The Coromandel Peninsula is quite spectacular, with beaches along the west and east coasts, although those on the east side are nicer with whiter sand, and running along the middle rises thick forest/bush with lots of walking (or tramping as they say in NZ) trails. It’s one of the places New Zealanders flock to for their summer holidays, if they haven’t gone to Bali or Fiji that is!

I got to the b & b at the allotted check in time of 3pm and was warmly welcomed by Stu who was missing quite a few teeth and said “No worries” at least 30 times, which of course I felt obliged to reprimand him for! He gave me a potted history of the Lady Bowen building which had been one of many hotels built in the 1860s when people also flocked to the area in the hope of becoming rich on the gold that had been found. There is no doubt it would have been used as a brothel. Stu and his wife Barbara bought the building a year or so ago which was then being used as a backpackers’ hostel called ‘Sunkist’ and rather unloved. They are restoring it and renamed it Lady Bowen as it was originally called.

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Opposite the b & b is a coastal walkway, fairly short, going north and south, so I walked south. Along the way was a hide, which I sat in for all of 5 minutes (there wasn’t much to see as the tide was out). I had a brief conversation with a young South African couple who, with their 3 young children, had arrived in NZ 6 weeks before to make it their home. After departing the young woman of the couple ran after me to ask me to dinner, which was really kind but, despite the fact I had told myself before leaving England that I would accept any such offers I declined very graciously. Something to do with the 3 children and my having to decline meat, but I know I should have accepted…

So, instead, I ate at the Junction Hotel which was very pleasant despite the fact the portions were small.

Some of the buildings in Thames:

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On Tuesday 30th I decided to go for a walk and investigate historic ‘Rocky’s walk’ just off the main road in the northernmost part of Thames leading up into the forest in a semi circle and then back down to Victoria Street which led to the main road. What could possibly go wrong? I walked along the northern section of the coastal walkway and on to Ash Street the end of which appeared to be the start of the walk. Whether it was or not, I certainly had an adventure and kept walking up and up, negotiating fallen trees at times and balancing on a narrow trunk to avoid walking ankle deep through water. It was very slippery in places and I could have done with my walking poles which were languishing in the bottom of my case in my room, not having yet seen the light of day!

I wasn’t too worried as there was just the one path and orange markers or red chalk markings on trees along the way. There were also pink markers which I later found out were places were poison had been laid for possums. After two hours however, and not looking like the track was going to reach Victoria Street, I thought it sensible to turn back, despite a dislike of retracing steps on walks preferring circular walks where possible. It was much more difficult, needless to say, walking down and I slipped a couple of times getting covered in mud but, fortunately, injury free. However, somehow I ended up getting down to Victoria Street, and had no idea how as I hadn’t seen another path on the way up. Weird! This appeared to be the actual start of the walk, so I’d been way off.

Some pics from the walk:

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Anyway, all hot and flustered by this stage I was very pleased to see civilisation again and walked back along the beach, stopping to admire the ‘Variable Oystercatchers’ scrabbling along the beach and shore. The beach, by the way, is completely covered in shells, many empty oyster shells amongst them. An information board told me that the Oystercatchers here are called ‘Variable’ as they’re not all the same, some black some grey and others black and white and only found in NZ:

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After walking into town still covered in mud in search of tea and cake I went back to the b & b for another cuppa, shower and change. There had been 5 people, including me, staying last night but tonight just me and an older man. He arrived as I was leaving for dinner but I didn’t stop to chat as was starving and was concerned he might want to join me….should have let him! I really fancied some fish and chips which I thought I deserved and went to another restaurant called ‘Gastronomics’ which was pretty much full mainly with parties of people but, despite that, I was warmly welcomed and served efficiently by the three young waitresses. Date and toffee steamed pudding with ice cream followed the fish and chips, all very delicious and I waddled back.

The next morning at breakfast I discovered that the other guest was a private detective called Mike who was on a job and staying for 2-3 nights. I assumed it would be the normal matrimonial type of thing, following a spouse to see if he/she is having an affair but he told me he deals mainly with fraud cases. He was a police officer for 13 years and set up his own private investigation business when he had a young family and wanted to earn more money. It seems he earns rather a lot now and despite having just celebrated his 70th birthday wasn’t going to retire any time soon. He was an interesting and funny chap and I was sorry I had to leave to catch a bus, and should have had dinner with him last night if I’d known! Before I left he wanted to put me in touch with an ex Essex Police Officer who now lives in New Plymouth, called her up on his phone so I could chat. So if I make it there she’ll show me the sights.

Barbara kindly drove me to the bus stop and while waiting for it I chatted to a couple of ladies sitting on a bench who I assumed were mother and daughter waiting for the bus too. I ‘assumed’ wrong on both counts as they were Jehovah’s Witnesses (I hadn’t spotted the tell tale stand with booklets nearby). To their credit they never once mentioned this until I asked where they were going.

It was just a 50 minute journey to Waihi for which I managed to get a seat in the front of the top deck this time. My accommodation for two nights was an Airbnb at a woman called Julie’s home and I was to be her first guest, so thought she might be nervous. She very kindly met me at the bus stop and walked me to the Real Estate Agent’s where she works as a rental property manager. I left my big case there and was to investigate the little town until 5 pm when she was leaving for home.

Waihi is another gold mining town (NZ’s ‘Heart of Gold’ in actual fact) and Julie suggested I might like to walk to the edge and round the rim of the Martha mine. Before doing so I went to one of the many cafes in Seddon Street, the main drag, for some lunch. Then, afterwards, as I headed for the mine it started to pour with rain so went instead to the library spending a good two hours in there reading and writing.

The town is dominated by a Cornish Pumphouse which looms over Seddon Street. It was built in 1906 to house steam engines and pumping equipment to dewater Martha Mine, and pumped out 7,000 litres of water per minute. It ceased being used from 1913 when it’s steam power was replaced by electricity. The pumphouse, which weighs 1840 tons, was moved from its original site above the mine to its current site in 2006 when underground workings threatened its stability. I walked to the rim of Martha mine and read that 7 vertical shafts were sunk into the mine, the deepest being 600 metres, from which radiated a network of 175 km of tunnels on 15 levels. At its peak, in 1909, there were about 1500 people working at this mine and at the Victoria Battery which I was to see the next day. The original mine was closed in 1952 but was the first to be commissioned following a resurgence of the gold mining industry in NZ in the late 1970s.

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I went to meet up with Julie for a lift to her home and on the way she drove me around the town to orientate me. She admitted she was nervous and was keen to get things right. Being her first guest she’d got some little bottles of Prosecco to celebrate, I’d bought some nibbles, and we enjoyed a very open and frank conversation in her music room/lounge in front of her wood burner. That and a wood burner in the lounge off the kitchen/diner was the only form of heating and my bedroom and bathroom were freezing. There was, fortunately, an electric blanket on the bed so that was toasty. Julie and I had a lot in common and it was great for me to have her company and a proper talk.

Despite her full time job Julie teaches piano some evenings, is a tour guide (as and when) for http://www.toursbylocals.com which I hadn’t heard about but worth knowing, sometimes accompanies singers/instrumentalists, does the odd gig with a band playing keyboards and keeps the books for her partner, Lee, who lives in Auckland. She told me she decided to have a go at Airbnb for company!

The next day I’d decided to hire a bicycle to ride the Hauraki Rail Trail, one of the easiest cycle trails in the country, cycling the section from Waihi to Paeroa, 24 km each way. The whole trail runs from Thames and south to Te Aroha with the section Waihi to Paeroa (pronounced Pie-rower) branching off east. The trail uses parts of the abandoned ECMT (East Coast Main Trunk) and Thames branch railways, there is also a small section of railway where you can ride a diesel train from Waihi to Waikino.

I took my time, stopping regularly to take photos and enjoy the views. Whilst it was mainly sunny all day it was also quite chilly. I was glad I’d packed my cycling shorts which I wore under running trousers as expected to have a numb bum having not cycled for at least 9 months. The trail follows the Ohinemuri river, through lovely countryside and the picturesque Karangahake Gorge (where there are some nice walks, which I’m saving for another time), over a historic rail road bridge and through a 1km rail tunnel which I was glad to get out of (it was dimly lit and cold, plus I dislike tunnels) and passing the Victoria Battery where there are historic mining relics and a museum, which was closed. Fair enough, I only passed about 5 others cyclists throughout the day.

Some of the views en route to Paeroa. The waterfall is the Owharoa waterfall:

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Ore was transported from Martha Mine to the Victoria Battery, in Waikino (8 miles east) where ample water was available, by the mining company’s 2 foot 9 gauge ‘Rake’ line in 40 wagons each loaded with 1 ton of quartz and pulled by one of 6 English-built steam locomotives. Between 1897 and 1901 the ore was first tipped into large brick-line ore roasting kilns where alternate layers of 50 tons of native timber and ore were stacked into the 8 kilns and burnt for a few days. The ore and ash were then transported to crushers, stampers, tube mills and agitation tanks for cyanide treatment. The remainder was returned to Waihi for further treatment resulting in gold and silver bars being poured. After 1901 the kilns became redundant due to the huge consumption of timber (a ton of timber per ton of ore) which was deforesting the area, and a wet crushing process was introduced.

Remains of the battery:

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The workers went on a bitter and violent strike in 1912 owing to poor wages and living conditions, which led to a radical Labour movement that eventually became part of the NZ Labour Party in Parliament.

I arrived at Paeroa feeling rather jaded as, having not cycled for about 9 months, it proved harder than expected also the path was gravel. On the recommendation of a lady in the i-site office (tourist information) I had lunch in ‘The Refinery’ which was quite retro and had a nice ambience and menu. I was rather chilly so chose a bowl of soup and pot of tea, after which I decided to cycle straight back without making so many stops. It did seem easier going back so hopefully I’ve partially regained my cycling legs.

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That evening I went out to dinner with Julie at Waihi’s RSA (Returned Servicemen Association) club. Most towns have one and they are often good places to eat. While they’re primarily for members, anyone else can go in – you just have to fill in a form. The bar was cheap and I enjoyed fish and chips again (twice in a week – very unusual for me!) followed by apple crumble. At 7pm the lights were switched off, a cross on a wall was lit up and everyone stood up when a woman told us it was the time to remember those who gave their lives for us. She recited the well known stanza from Laurence Binyon’s ‘For The Fallen’ 1st World War poem: “They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them” at which point everyone repeated “we will remember them”. I admit it brought a tear, and understand this happens in the clubs regularly, not just once a year.

Next day, Friday 2nd August, I’d booked a bus leaving Waihi for Tauranga (pronounced ‘Tour wronger’) at 3.10pm so took my time getting ready. I was able to leave my case at Julie’s workplace again and went to the museum. Again, an excellent volunteer called Maggie gave me an introductory talk and I checked out the small museum which was in the main about gold mining and included a video of interviews with retired miners, since deceased, a model of the mine in its heyday and some lovely old photos. I learnt that a lot of the miners who had made the tunnels signed up for action in the First World War and were used to dig tunnels then.

I checked out another cafe called the Ti-Tree Cafe for lunch, a popular little place. Most of the towns in the Coromandel Peninsula seem to have lots of cafes, antique shops and ‘Op shops’ (charity shops) although they haven’t learnt how to do nice window displays here yet – perhaps they need Mary Portas to train them.

The bus was 10 minutes late and the bus driver not overly friendly. It had started raining and got worse. I was rather perturbed as the driver seemed to be going too fast for the conditions, probably to make up time. After 30 minutes and 15 minutes from my destination, Te Puna just before Tauranga, traffic came to a standstill and eventually we were told there was a 4 car pile-up. I got in contact with Jenny (houseowner of the housesit I was going to) who was waiting for me at the bus stop. There were police cars and an ambulance travelling from her direction, two fire engines and recovery vehicles from mine so assumed it was serious. We were told it could be 3 hours before the road was cleared so I suggested Jenny went home and I’d let her know when we moved. In the end it took 90 minutes and we discovered a person had been trapped in one of the 3 cars (not 4) and gone to hospital with serious injuries. A lady in the bus told me that road (state highway 2) is notorious for accidents and I just thanked my lucky stars that we hadn’t been involved in it, given the speed the driver had been doing.

Anyway, Jenny picked me up and took me to her home, Hacienda Suri Alpaca Stud, at the top of Whakamarama Rd which is about 10km long. By the way, ‘Wh’ in New Zealand is pronounced ‘F’ so you can work out how embarrassing the name of the road is!

I was introduced to the rest of the family: Jenny’s husband Pete and their two daughters Ivy, 9, and Cora, 8. They were very sociable as are used to Airbnb guests (my bedroom) and ‘workaway’ people in the summer. Jenny who like me doesn’t eat meat provided us with pasta with roast vegetables whilst Pete and the girls had pasta with meat……alpaca!

This all began when I woke up one morning in the summer of 2018 bored with my circumstances, my life and even with Cheltenham, something I’d never have imagined as, when I moved there in 2007, I told everyone I’d only leave in a box! I’d been driven out of a job I loved in October 2017 and, subsequently, been unsuccessful in securing two other jobs that I knew would be fulfilling. So, changes had to be made given that life is short or, as Graham would say: “There are no pockets in shrouds”!

A few years ago I read an interesting article in the ‘Sunday Times’ about a couple who, whilst travelling, had been asked by some house owners they met to housesit for them. They agreed and, as a result of their experience, recognised a gap in the market and set up Trusted Housesitters. I joined in 2012 expecting to use it for free holidays in the UK and enjoy the company of other people’s pets. However, I didn’t use it and my membership lapsed. After much deliberation I decided to rent my home from January 2019, rejoin Trusted Housesitters and housesit in the UK for a few months to save some money and get housesitting experience before travelling to New Zealand and Australia and then, who knows…?

I’ve rented out two previous homes (1998 and 2005) to go travelling and thought I’d got it out of my system but it seems not! It was certainly a lot more tiring emptying and packing up my home this time and I thought it best to make the most of life while I still have my health and energy, albeit a bit less than in 2005! This time I didn’t need to pay for storage as I sold some furniture, got most of the rest of my belongings in the eaves and attic room, padlocking it, and had the kind offer from Helen to leave clothes and camping gear at her house for as long as necessary.  Friends were also offering me a  bed should I find myself adrift between housesits.