Auckland ~ Oct 27-Nov 1, #2
First Impressions
As the taxi van whisked us along the outskirt of Auckland through an underwater tunnel and over bridges, even at speed, the landscape appeared magical in the early morning light. The sun cast its morning glow across the sky, giving the water a deep blue hue and along it’s edges was the densest, greenest foliage I have ever seen. We had just landed and already I was in awe.
We soon came to the realization that New Zealand is a land of plants, trees and birds. No longer would we be greeted each day by some soft-eyed critter lurking in the bush. The only native land mammals here are short and long-eared bats. This was a land where all things native have either roots or wings with nothing to fear. It would take us some time to adjust. Australia’s wildlife had truly left its footprint on our hearts.
Before we left Australia, we were able to connect with a Warm Showers host just outside of Auckland that graciously agreed to let us ship our pack rafts ahead and opened their home to us upon our arrival, even though they were away for the long weekend.
We spent the first week repeating the “new arrival” checklist, navigating the suburbs to find our e-sims/phone plan, gather supplies, and collect our pack rafts, until we were more than ready to leave the confines of the city and begin our trek across the North Island, heading South from Auckland.
Ferry Commute
Our hosts recommended we take the commuter cycleway into downtown Auckland and board the ferry to Pine Harbor avoiding the main roads out of the city. On our way through town we happened upon a brewery for a quick farewell toast to Auckland. Arriving at the ferry dock, it was a surprise to see the number of ferry boats jostling for position in the harbor. Ours was the smallest of the lot, with just enough room to push our bikes onto the back deck and stand alongside. The cityscape faded from view and the islands rose up around us, as we headed south to Pine Harbor, a suburb of Auckland(40km by car/23km by ferry).
Auckland ~ just missing the waterfront carrousel
Once everyone else had disembarked, we pushed our bikes onto the dock. Nivaun then started up the narrow and very steep metal ramp to the landing. I decided I would give it a go, and see if I could make it up on my own, in spite of the onlookers above. Surprisingly, it seemed almost effortless, until I realized one of the crew was behind me, secretly pushing my load up the ramp.
From the gathering of on-lookers, one of the passengers came over to ask about our bikes and our travels. And then a few minutes later at the road side, while we were still trying to decide on a route to the store, the same passenger pulled alongside us in his car, offering us his contact information and extending an invite to stay at his holiday homes on the North and South Islands. We had barely started and already we were feeling at home in the land of the Kiwis.
First Camp
Bridge to Omana Clifftop campground
As we road up the hill, we realized this was an oceanside community not unlike the ones along Puget Sound. But within a couple more kilometers, we were beyond the strip mall and posh suburban neighborhood, winding our way across the Sports Grounds into a densley wooded area. At the top of the hill, we found an expansive grassy knoll, formerly part of the nearby farm, now designated as Omana Clifftop campground. We had our pick of the open grass and settled in next to the fence line, struggling to hold back the flourishing bush. An array of birds flit back and forth from tree to bush to the ground around us. The whole area felt idyllic.
We were surrounded by green in every direction, above us a cloudscape against a sky of blue, the scent of honeysuckle carried on a coastal breeze and a whole new chorus of bird song (as Nivaun noted with no “squawks”). Among our first winged sightings were the flashes of blue from not just one, but multiple, Kingfishers darting amongst the trees, the crazy aerial dives of the Tui before sipping nectar from a flowering flax, the swoopy dance of the Fantails chasing bugs mid-air, the waltz of the Song Thrush intently tracking worms beneath the grass, and the tireless bounce of the Blackbird trailed by it’s offspring incessantly clamoring for handouts. Even a couple of our Australian friends roamed the hillside, a family of swamp hens with chicks and a few Masked Lapwings. By the time we left camp two days later, we had already checked off close to half of the New Zealand birds on the “Bird Nerd” app. It was quite apparent New Zealand was destined to turn us into “Twitchers” before we left.
