Bay of Islands and Kerikeri

PAIHI and KERIKERI, NZ
              On my flight from Queenstown to Auckland the next morning, a nice Kiwi (traveling with his son) offered me the window seat.  Similar to my trip to Queenstown, I noticed the flight attendants were catering to my seatmate and I had to inquire.  We began talking and I discovered he was ALSO a big deal!  He was a pilot for Air NZ for the past 25 years and he had trained the pilot that was flying our plane.  He was a really nice man and he thought he may be piloting my flight to Melbourne on Wednesday and wanted to get me an upgrade…but I later found out I was flying on Emirate and not Air NZ.  Kiwis are so darn thoughtful!  During landing, his son threw up right next to me.  I think God was really testing my recent oath of showing kindness toward children.  I think I passed the test.  Throw up really is the worst smell out there.

                Brianne picked me up from the airport and I chilled at the house, awaiting my next move.  Another gutsy one.  I had agreed to travel with a stranger from gumtree.co.nz (think craigslist).  Terry Fernando from Sri Lanka wanted to go to the Bay of Islands the next day and so did I.  His post seemed like a personal ad at first but I had told him I wasn’t interested in anything romantic so there would be no miscommunication on the trip.  I was clear as crystal.  Everything was finally arranged but it was weird that he hadn’t answered my question on accommodation.  I had inquired several times and told him I was on a budget so would probably  couch surf or stay at a hostel.  His final email told me not to worry- accommodation was sorted.  ???

                The next morning, Terry picked me up around noon time in his very nice Mercedes Benz.  Here I go again, trusting nice cars.  I would have definitely been a victim of Ted Bundy's.  He was very dark, very quiet, and, yes, he sported a very, scary moustache.  Why are moustaches so creepy?  I was trying not to judge slash racially profile slash thin-slice him.  People had said if it didn’t feel right then I shouldn’t go with him.  What feels right though when you're dealing with different nationalities?  I can’t really spot a sketchy foreigner from a regular foreigner since so much can boil down to cultural differences.  I had my mace nearby and was firing questions that all seemed to check out in the first half hour.

                During the car ride, there was a lot of quiet time.  He didn’t understand me a lot and laughed at things that weren’t really funny (like when I asked if people could talk on their cell phones while they drove).  Clearly not funny but he went on and on laughing.   He had answered a call shortly into the trip and was speaking another language.  He was very brief and I was wondering if he was saying, “Yes, I got the girl.  I’m going to kill her at exit 6.”  And then he had gotten off the highway to follow the scenic route so I was questioning that too.  Also, I found it really strange that he had lived in Auckland for 12 years and had never gone to the famous Bay of Islands. 

We stopped for lunch at an Irish bar in Whangarie and Terry insisted on paying and that I would pay for the next one.  I was concerned that he may think this is romantic afterall.  After he told me he was a huge Michael Jackson fan, the thriller video came on in the pub.  And guess who had never seen it before?  Terry.  Some fan.  We checked into a motel and I was starting to be on high alert.  I insisted on staying at the YHA because I couldn’t afford a motel but he laughed it off and counter-insisted it was not a problem for him to pay.  He was really nice and I thought that maybe I was judging him too much.  He hadn't done anything outright that caused concern.  I just didn’t want him to expect anything later.  I had been sharing space with plenty of strangers on this trip so I was fine with that aspect.

                We watched some tv in the room and he offered me a beer and  I stupidly didn’t watch him pour it out of the can.  I had promised myself that I wouldn’t accept any drinks without watching where they came from.  I was fearful that I would quickly go numb from the neck down and kept my mace close by. Happy my legs still worked 30 minutes later, we headed into town to eat at a lively bar/restaurant.   They had some great live music that I would have loved to dance to if I were not there with this guy.  I gave him the impression that I had two left feet and despised dancing.  He was becoming a tiny bit touchy and my tolerance was extremely low.  He kept encouraging me to drink more and I was starting to get nervous.  When he excused himself for the bathroom, I made the bartender aware of my situation and that she was not to serve me any alcohol.

                I soon excused myself and went back to the motel to watch the royal wedding.  It was a lot of fluff and fantasy but so much better than hanging out with Terry.  He came home a little drunk and was walking around with a shirt on top and a towel on the bottom.  I was so uncomfortable.  He continued to drink in the room and lit a cigar at the doorway.  What is it with smokers that really think smoking by a door or window won’t make a room smell like smoke?  Obviously there will be wafting.  The room smelled like his nasty cigars and I had to ask him to go outside.  Check me out.  This guy has driven me all the way up to the Bay of Islands, paid for almost everything along the way, and I kick him out of the motel when he wants to smoke.  I slept with my mace that night just in case.  As expected, nothing happened.

The next morning, Terry was hung over so he slept late.  I had showered and visited the internet and researched my next move before he finally woke up.  He said that he got a call and would have to leave for Auckland today.  I decided it would be better to be stranded here than drive back with him.  We took the ferry to Russell for breakfast and then he dropped me in the wonderful town of Kerikeri!   All in all, Terry really was harmless and I feel bad picking on him.  He was very nice but just made me feel uncomfortable.            



Terry-less in Kerikeri, I tapped into CouchSurfing.com and threw out some desperate emails to see if any locals could house me for the night.  I set out to explore the town that shared my name as I awaited email replies.  I could have walked 45 minutes to the Kerikeri Chocolate Factory but I was carrying my bookbag, purse, and duffel bag of clothes.  So I stuck my thumb out again to hitch a ride 3km out of the town center.  A VW van with 3 Argentinian guys almost caused a traffic jam when they pulled over for me.  In our brief time together, I learned that they were traveling for a year or two and just picking up work along their travels.  It was pretty cool.  The driver questioned why I told them I was from ‘America’ since America actually encompasses North America, Central America and South America.  I didn’t have a great response ready but it’s really made me think.  We’re the only country that actually has America in our name so it’s not surprising that we would say that.  If they were from ‘The Argentinian Republic of America’ then I could see why they might call themselves America as well.  But we actually call it America within our own country and maybe they aren’t aware of that.  I wonder if we appear arrogant by other nations by referring to ourselves that way.  I don’t like saying, “USA” because I consider it less honorable when you abbreviate your own country.  I also don’t like saying,  “United States” because those are just English words and not the name of a country.  What are your thoughts on that?  Are we wrong in calling ourselves America?  I think not.  We’re Americans…people from America.

                I had some nice samples of the chocolate factory and then headed 500 yards up the road to the fudge factory.  Man, Kerikeri was my kind of place!!!  After sampling plenty of fudge from the wonderful woman working behind the counter, she asked where I was staying and I told her of my predicament.  Jacky had never heard of couch surfing and asked who I was waiting to hear from.  I told her the names and sure enough she knew them!  Seriously?!?!  There are only 2 degrees of separation in this country!  She was SO incredibly nice and friendly.  She sold fudge for goodness sakes!  You can’t be more trusting than that.  She said if I didn’t hear from the couchsurfers, I could stay on her couch that night!  What an angel!

                I hitchhiked back to town with a woman named Stella who had lived in Scotland for 20 years, Australia for 30 years and was now retired in Kerikeri.  The first woman to pick me up!  Solidarity, sister!  I killed time until Jacky picked me up around 6pm.  We settled into her quaint house about 10 minutes outside of the town center.  She was such a little scatterbrain full of giggles!  She had recently left her husband after 25 years of marriage and was doing marvelously!  They were on very good terms and the kids (23, 21, and 18) agreed that they just weren’t meant for each other.  She picked some vegetables from her garden and we threw together some dinner.  We had great conversation over dinner and I was amazed to hear about her independence.  She once grew and sold basil commercially to make money on the side, she lived on a commune for 4 months, she was a talented painter and had her own studio for a bit.  She had so many talents and dabbled in all of them throughout her life.  I really, genuinely, loved the way my night had shaped up!  What an amazing person to have opened up her home and her life to me.  This is exactly what I wanted this trip to be like.

The following morning, we shared some breakfast together before Jacky drove me around town.   Kerikeri means, ‘dig dig’ and the area is well known for its fertile soil and was one of the first areas discovered by English missionaries.  It had a strong Maori population and the famous Treaty of Waitangi was signed nearby.  I wasn’t able to visit The Rainbow Falls due to the weather but Jacky showed me the famous Stone store (first store in NZ) and dropped me off at a farmer’s market before enjoying her day off.  Kerikeri was also known for its great oranges so, being the orange juice connoisseur that I am, I gladly paid too much for a fresh squeezed OJ from a local farmer.  It was the best I’ve ever tasted in all of my life.  What a great town.  What a great name!



Welcome to Kerikeri!



Yummy fudge factory in Kerikeri



Russell



Town of Russell



Bay of Islands- town of Russell