After crawling into my sleeping bag last night I went to sleep listening to the rain on the tent. Just before 12 I was startled awake by someone letting off fireworks, right next door to the campground; literally just over the fence. I had a moments panic--I'm in a freaking flammable tent!--before deciding there was nothing I could do about it. None of the first half dozen fireworks seemed to have landed anywhere nearby so I just lay and hoped they continued to aim them away from the camp.
Happily things only got better from there. I woke up at 6:30 to azure blue sky and blazing sunshine. To make up for the night before I took my time getting ready and had a lovely long shower. I left my tent up and arrayed various damp things on a handy picnic table and by the time I was ready to go at around 9:30am they were dry (including my walking shirt that I only rinsed out that morning...gotta love quick-dry fabrics!).
I headed up the street to the nearest bus stop. There was a bus to Takapuna, but not til 10:30. What a shame. I guessed I'd just have to sit outside the cafe two doors down from the bus stop and nurse an iced chocolate until then. And that's exactly what I did. I also caught up on a blog entry, stopping occasionally to smile at a grey-haired gentleman sitting legs crossed at a nearby table who every now and then had to quiet the fluffy golden-white Pomeranian nestled in his lap when it took exception to people walking passed on the footpath. Evebtually the man asked me if I was backpacking and so I explained about the trail. I never heard what question number two was as just then I saw a bus coming up the street so I made my apologies, grabbed my gear and made a dash for the bus stop. Happily the driver saw me and stopped. Unhappily it was the wrong bus!
Appologising profusely I jumped back off the bus and lent my pack against the bus stop sign. The man with the Pomeranian had watched the whole thing; it was now his turn to smile.
Five minutes later the right bus came along. Unfortunately I didn't know the route and the driver didn't know the bay I wanted to get off at. Finally after looking at my map we worked out that at least this bus would get me somewhere close so I paid my $2.50 and found a seat. I tracked our progress on Google Maps just to make sure I didn't end up in the wrong place. The route was quicker than yesterday and within 20 minutes I was back on the trail.
The north shore coastal walk continues along the coast as it had previously, through beaches, walkways and road-walks through suburbs. Parts of it are just beautiful and I was glad I had skipped out yesterday and could now walk at least some of the route in fine weather. There were quite a few other walkers (though none with backpacks), particularly along a part of the shore where the track follows a beaten path over exposed lava flows just above the hide tide mark. It's a mostly narrow route with the sea on one side and fences, bushes or lawns backed by very posh modern houses (for the most part) on the other. Ever the geologist I got quite excited and stop to take photo when I spotted a collapsed entrance to a lava cave. At one point the path also passed a large vertical hole (covered by a grate to stop people falling in) that I later discovered from reading a information board is the cast of a kauri tree trunk that was engulfed by the lava (tens of thousands of years ago). Pretty cool history for what otherwise looks like a random hole in the ground.
After a couple of hours I walked passed the Takapuna Holiday Park, just a stone's throw from where I'd camped. I kept walking but stopped for a break on the benches at the southern end of Takapuna Beach. A oldish man with a cane sat down just before I got there; I 'd steadily been gaining on him as we both walked up the beach. He was an extremely chatty guy, one if those people you can carry an entire conversation with little input from others. He told me all about his arthritis and how he walks the beach once a day but has to let his leg rest, and I told him a bit about the trail. I mentioned Jonty running it and that prompted the man to reminisce about the movie 'Forest Gump' and how "life is like a box of chocolates". I had my snack bag out at the time so it seemed appropriate then to break out my chocolate and offer him some. We mused on that for a little while before I packed up and set off again, wishing the man a good day (this has become my default sign off...except I use "have a good walk" with hikers).
I'd had a late start and maybe I was dawdling but I did not reach Devonport until 2:30, taking my time and enjoying the last part of the walk around the rocky headland, past the remnants of WWII gun emplacements, before arriving at a carpark and a cafe. I went in, eager for a late lunch, only to find the kitchen had just closed. Nothing in the cabinets tempted my taste buds so I contented myself with a juice and sat catching up on anothe blog entry. I only wanted to get as far as the Auckland CBD today, and after a short ferry ride that would only be another 4-6 km depending on which backpackers I stayed at. I did a ring around to try and find a bed for the night...nothing. Every single backpackers was fully booked! Well, except for one well out of the way that only had a bed in a make dorm (for $45!). Madness. If that's how much a backpackers costs there's no way I can afford a hotel so I didn't bother working my way up the accommodation chain--a quick look on booking.com confirmed there was nothing but $145+ accommodation available. Ditto all accommodation options in Devonport (they don't even have a backpackers, and the motel listed in the trail notes starts at $160). What to do?
I packed up and walked along the waterfront to the wharf, mulling it over and growing more than a little anxious. I eyed a patch of grass behind some bushes and public loos at the yacht club, but I hadn't yet grown quite that desperate. At the wharf I went to suss out the ferry timetable and had half a mind to board...but I didn't want to end up roaming the streets of Auckland at night with nowhere to stay! The next campground was not til Mangere and it didn't occur to me to catch the bus way out there and back in the morning. Finally I decided to have one last oh at finding somewhere in Devonport; my gut was telling me not to get on the ferry. I google mapped "accomodation near Devonport" on my phone and sign orign hotels etc began looking at B&Bs. Karin's B&B caught my eye...it might be a lot if nonsense but I think the chances of a B&B being run by someone friendly and accommodating rather than someone just trying to make money are better if they have their own name in the name if the place--at least it's not likely to be a business that's been sold to someone wanting to try their luck in the accomodation sector. So I rang Karin. She answered and I explained my situation and enquired about a room. She must have sensed the desperation in my voice as though she agreed that I was not likely to find anywhere to stay in Devonport for under $160 (including her place at it's usual rate) she'd let me stay for $85. With recent expenses still ringing in my wallet it was more than I wanted to spend, but I had to appreciate the heavily discounted rate and decided that on this occasion money would buy comfort but also piece of mind ...I would have a bed, in a room to myself plus breakfast, and it was only a few block's walk away (and all for less than double what a stuffy bunk in a dormitory across the harbour would have cost if I could have got it).
So, abandoning the ferry terminal until the morning I set off to Karins. She proved to be an older German lady who's been running B&Bs for over twenty years. Over a cup of tea and biscuits she asked me all about what I was doing as she had never heard of Te Araroa before. She also made me an offer. She has back problems so finds it hard to stand up for long periods and consequently things like cooking are difficult. If I was willing to cook dinner for us both I could have free reign I the kitchen and she'd pay for anything I needed that wasn't already in the fridge or pantry. Deal! Her only request was that I use lots of potatoes, and also some smoked salmon that was about to reach its best before date. Oh the hardship. We invited Karin's other guest, a Finnish lady named Hanna, to dinner as well; they left me to it and I said come back at 7:30.
I ran a little late but by 7:45 I'd managed to put together baked jacket potatoes stuffed with smoke salmon, soft cheese and capers, plus a packet mix of stir fry veges with honey soy sauce, bulked out with some extra spinach. I also noticed Katin had two overripe bananas so while everything else was baking I threw together a quick banana cake (thankfully the pantry was also well stocked with the necessary baking ingredients). Though perhaps not my best work happily dinner went down a treat, and Karin and Hanna spent most if it quizzing me about the trail. Thru-hiking, especially solo is not something they'd ever imagined let alone contemplated. It's funny seeing Te Araroa from that perspective again. I've gotten so used to the idea it no longer seems strange or unusual, but you forget that to lots of (most?) other people it's something completely out there and crazy!
Love your writing style. Very entertaining. Keep up the good work. Go Jenny
ReplyDelete