Te Ara Hura, Day 3 - Ups and downs. Especially downs

With thanks to Walk Waiheke for this famil 

We started our walk today at the (Waiheke-)famous row of letterboxes above the jetty at Orapiu and popped down to Mary's house for a welcome and some local history. That's one of the many nice things about this walk - the input at various places from people who live there and know the inside stories. Mary told us how Captain Cook cut kauri tree masts here, gold miners passed through en route to Coromandel, there were boarding houses for city-dwellers in long dresses with parasols, and an excellent ferry service - all gone now.

We headed along the coast and then up into the bush to the road, passing Passage Rock vineyard and the celebrated Ooh-aah view which today was somewhat muted. We paused for morning tea in the Pioneer Cemetery where we decided that Samuel Powell had an unsuitably big ego, and felt sorry for poor Anne.

We headed back down into the bush, crossing over a creek where big black eels lurked, keen for a feed. It was a long, long climb up through the bush - but with no clumpy steps to haul ourselves up, for a change (sorry, Make Tracks, you do great work, really) to the Puke o Kai picnic table at the top. In an ideal world, we would have settled here for a break to enjoy the expansive views, but the weather was blotting out the hills, and we set off straight away downhill. We had a brief Italian diversion as we passed a line of tall cypresses beside the Poderi Crisci vineyard, and then stopped to gird our loins near the Awaawaroa Ecovillage, where we finally had lunch.

Then we set off to tackle Trig Hill, plodding gamely up and up to the day's high point - which was a descent. I'd been hoping that, since the 'gentle' and 'flat' descriptions of the previous two days had not been at all accurate, the same would apply today. Er, nope. Boy, this drop was steep, and slippery, and very definitely challenging. So steep was it, that a rope had been fixed to the fenceline, for us to cling to as we slithered down the 45° slope. Honestly, the photo doesn't do it justice.

There was more clambering further down, less steep but no rope, only trees to grab hold of, and then finally we were at the bottom, congratulating ourselves. Except, further along, up (of course) a hill, word came that someone had slipped off the concrete culvert over a creek, and fallen in. Cue official concern, the one young man in the tour group conscripted for carrying duties, some quiet cursing at our being in the most inaccessible bit of the trail so far, and a long wait. But it all turned out ok, with Liz wet all over but otherwise unhurt, and so we continued the walk, down through lush bush with the odd fallen tree to negotiate.

Finally, as the sun came out again, we arrived at Batch Winery, walking up through the vines to a fabulously welcome snacky spread and a glass of rosé, sitting at long tables and all enjoying our achievement today. It sure was tough, and the climbs were steep, but we did it!

Te Ara Hura, Day 2 - a day of two halves

With thanks to Walk Waiheke for this famil.

We were told that today would be 'long but flat' so it was a bit disturbing to start with a very steep climb up from Onetangi, past some gorgeous homes, through a reserve to the road at the top. We followed it to Bruce Plested's place, which is actually a couple of big farms where, now at retirement age, he spends his time titivating the land, for our pleasure.

And it was a real pleasure, to trail through his rolling paddocks, past a big flock of sheep with bouncy lambs, and across another with a herd of curious heifers. The townies amongst us were alarmed at their boldness, and then astonished when one beast, caught on the wrong side of the fence, jumped it like a horse. 

There were some beautiful stands of ancient pohutukawa, which are going to be spectacular next month when their red flowers bloom; and I enjoyed looking down into all the little bays around the coast. We appreciated our morning tea on a headland with great views.

Then, though, we left the farm and hit the road, which Sarah said we were lucky had been dampened by the short, sharp rain that had swept over us, so wasn't dusty, as usual. That was the only thing good about it - it wound on and on, up and down, up and down, unsealed and bumpy, for SO long. Our various feet, knees and hips complained and we all got a bit fed up with it, only momentarily diverted by occasional views out over the water. The biggest island is Pakatoa, once a resort where a young Russell Crowe, under the name Rus le Roq, was an entertainer and bingo caller. It's for sale, if you've got a spare $40-odd million.

We had lunch by the beach at the Man O' War winery, which was, sadly, shut; and then hit the sodding road again, as above. I decided that Sarah's suggestion to adopt an 'intention', to be in the moment, was a bad idea, since here and now was all about aching leg muscles, sore feet and panting. I could have done with rising above all that; or at least distracting myself with trivia.

But we ploughed on, and on, and finally made it to the pick-up point at Orapiu, where I gratefully collapsed into Kate's car and silently groused about the 'flat' part of the official description of today's route. And tomorrow? 'Challenging'. Can't wait.

Te Ara Hura, Day 1 - Do 10+ km/17,000 steps count as 'gentle'?

With thanks to Walk Waiheke for this famil

Sarah, our guide, is full of enthusiasm, encouragement and energy and this morning we set off on our 5 day, 100km circuit of Waiheke Island eager and excited. The track is called Te Ara Hura, meaning 'Discover the Way' and though I was familiar with about a third of the route, I was looking forward to exploring new territory and seeing different views.

There were 42 of us, the majority locals if you include Auckland, but of various nationalities - Kiwis, Brits, Saffas, Americans, Irish, Germans, a token Aussie, even a couple of Russians - plus 5 guides. Mostly women, our ages ranged from 30ish to a wiry little lady of 79 who was in equal parts inspiring and challenging. I mean, good for her but no way could I let her get ahead, eh.

Today was described as a 'gentle introduction', starting after lunchtime. After a welcome and some brief formalities, we set off down from Oneroa to our starting point on the beach beside a Te Ara Hura signpost - the first of very many. We marched off, full of energy, following a route I often walk, up over the headland to Little O, up again and along a bush track, down the road to the zigzag path to Hekerua and then off again towards Enclosure Bay - internationally famous on YouTube for the orca encounter there with some children swimming.

We heard about the amazing work done over 30 years by locals to restore a pine plantation back to native bush, a huge success, and then panted off again towards Palm Beach. After due warning, we descended the steep track (me behind a living-dangerously man who went the whole way with his hands in his pockets, tch) to the 'nudie beach' end which was, this being a sunny public holiday, well patronised by stitchless sunbathers. We finally had a proper stop for snacks under the palms, before the steep climb up again, cutting through a new housing development on former farmland. Sounds awful, but actually it was instantly envy-inducing: gorgeously landscaped big sections, well spaced and with marvellous views out to sea. It maybe helped that there are no houses built yet but, judging by the impressively stylish homes nearby, they will actually set off the scenery.

Then we trailed away along and down to Onetangi Beach for very welcome Postage Stamp wine and nibbles at Sarah's house just across the road. There was much group smugness, comparing of statistics - iPhone decidedly inferior to the Strava app - and eagerness to get into proper walking tomorrow, a full day officially described as 'flat'. We'll see...

Thank goodness for art

This weekend, I almost wished I was a rugby fan. An apparently exciting and successful World Cup game against Ireland would have cheered me up a bit after two national decision disappointments on Saturday, one each side of the Tasman.

Moving on from, sigh, our General Election, the failure of Australia's Voice referendum on giving Aboriginal and Torres Straits Islanders an official right to weigh in with opinion and advice on matters that affect them - no more than that, mind, no obligation involved to follow their recommendation - was dismaying, to say the least. You'd think that, after over 230 years of bossing them about and/or ignoring them, Australians generally might have come around to considering that it was time to concede a bit of token equality. After all, they had pre-dated the European settlers by just the 60,000 years, or thereabouts.

Some facts: Australia is a continent, as well as a country - huge and environmentally challenging. So the First Peoples developed as culturally diverse nations, with 300-plus distinct languages; and all of their energy went into simply surviving in that often harsh landscape - a triumph in itself. Captain Cook didn't recognise them as a native people in 1788 and declared Australia 'terra nullius' ie 'empty land' when he claimed it for Britain. The Aboriginal people were treated abysmally by the settlers and their successors - look up the Stolen Generations - and weren't even included in the population count till 1967. And it wasn't until 1984 that they were given the same voting rights and responsibilities as all other Australians. Though they comprise less than 4% of the general population, they make up 30% of prisoners. Alcoholism and unemployment are big problems, they suffer from diseases most of us think of as historical, and die 8 years earlier than non-Aboriginals.

NB I know that NZ's treatment of Māori has been/is far from ideal but, in comparison, well...

So, knowing all that, and with the Voice referendum coming up, it felt perfectly timed to go to the Auckland Art Gallery's exhibition of First Peoples Art a couple of weeks ago. And I was so glad I did.

[Sincere apologies to the artists, whose names I shamefully didn't record.]

It's all work

 
After a beautifully quiet night in one of the Martinborough Hotel's garden suites, I took a wander around town and was really quite captivated. Last time, I was amused by the trailerload of sheep I encountered but this time it was the people who I warmed to. Everyone I encountered on the street gave me a warm smile and greeting, and I felt very welcome.

It's also such a pretty place, with so many lovely buildings, all of them clearly treasured. 

We had a flat white and bacon butty at a busy cafe with the chattiest and cheerful lady behind the counter (wearing shorts!) and then toddled off for a look around Greytown, where I went last time and is even prettier.

And finally it was time to head off over the Remutaka Hill again - such a mental and physical barrier, though it only takes twenty minutes to negotiate all its curves and corners. Back to the airport and away home, Wairarapa finally properly ticked off. Except Toast Martinborough is coming up next month, and it sounds really good…

A Foley freebie

With thanks to Foley Wines for this famil

Up in the air again, hooray, I was heading back to Wairarapa to fill in a gap from last time. The Runholder is a brand new cellar door that's opened just outside Martinborough to present both wine and gin, and it sure is classy. We went straight there and spent about nine hours on the premises, much of that time being indulged with delicious food and some excellent drinks.

The building is a big, stylish take on the traditional woolshed, with a wine cellar below and the gin distillery alongside the tasting room. The vineyard is owned by American billionaire Bill Foley, the cellar's full of French oak barrels, and the distillery has a shiny, brand-new steel and copper still just arrived from Germany, but everything else is genuine Kiwi, and mostly local - gin botanicals, grapes, food.

Oh, the food! Chef Tim served us lamb ribs, sashimi, wagyu steak and all the sauces but, peasant that I am, it was the spuds that blew me away. Pommes Anna, to give them their proper name - sliced super-thinly, pressed overnight, flavoured with rosemary and garlic and then baked to be brown and crisp on the outside and soft inside. My mouth is currently watering again. Delicious.

Toby, the man in charge of supplying the fish, came and told us all about how sustainably it's done - to order, line-caught, spreading the harvesting in both time and space - and, when I asked, said he did, occasionally, still fish for fun.

Of course we tasted lots of wine, which added up, with the consequence that though I conscientiously took notes throughout, they're now totally illegible. But the wine was good. Wine master John gave us the tour of the pressing room and cellar, talking lots of technical stuff which I noted down, see above, and gave us tastings from several barrels. This involved, I was mildly repelled to see, his sucking a sample up into a metal tube which he then released into our glasses. Traditional, and hygienic, I'm sure, but still.

Speaking of which, we went to look at it and marvel at all the pipes and dials, after which we had a tasting. They do three varieties, ranging from 42% up to a gasping 57%, which was challenging when we had to sip it neat - but impressively subtler when tried with ice, and then tonic. But I liked the wine better.

Then, with the public all gone, we had the big, airy dining room all to ourselves, and "made our own pizzas" in the open kitchen: ie, we wrangled the dough Tim had made, and put some toppings on, before he slid it into the wood oven. Pretty impressed that it cooked in 90 seconds, I must say - but 450° will do that. Yummy too.

We sat around for ages while it got dark outside, eating, drinking and chatting, before finally going back to the Martinborough Hotel, which looked lovely at night.

Such a shame

And so we continue. Last post Rhodes on fire, now it's Maui. The pictures and stories coming from the island are truly horrendous and the destruction is mind-boggling. Lahaina is was such a pretty place when I visited in December 2016, with Uncruise. As I wrote in the blog that day, it reminded me strongly of Russell, in the Bay of Islands here, because of its position by the sea, the historic buildings all pretty, wooden and individual, and the atmosphere friendly and relaxed, but still buzzing with contented visitors.

After a busy morning starting with yoga on deck, followed by spotting turtles while out snorkelling, and then a bit of whale- and spinner dolphin-watching, we went ashore after lunch to wander around Lahaina. The town was totally focussed on tourists, all the shops along Front St bright and colourful, full of tempting non-essentials (though I did buy a sun visor), the picturesque historic buildings explained on storyboards, the jetty by the lighthouse busy with adventure activities. There were peaceful bits too, especially in the shade of the vast banyan tree by the sea, with its multiple trunks and its branches full of birds.

I've read that the lighthouse and banyan tree are, though damaged, still standing, and are about all that's left now of that busy, bustling, pretty place that I, and everyone else, was so pleased to be exploring. In the photos all those buildings are completely gone, the streets full of half-melted cars, the palm trees just blackened stalks. It's so awful, and the terror of being caught in the middle of it all is unimaginable. The death toll is currently 90+ with lots more to come. So very, very sad.