Hosting, toasting and boasting

Roger’s friend from volunteer policing days, Tom, arrived in Wellington a week and a half ago. He had a long 'to do' list, which we supplemented with advice on other parts of the country he could explore.

But first, a play at local Bats Theatre, The Rime of the Modern Mariner. The production showed promise in its unusual, expressive movement of characters within and between scenes, but ultimately tried to do way too much both thematically and theatrically. 

Kaitoke Park

On Saturday, we set off for Rivendell (or at least the site thereof) in Kaitoke Park. Indispensable Roger got called back to Wellington to help out an earthquake-stricken client, however, so it was just Tom and I who experienced the anti-climax of the elves’ minimalist hangout. Still, the forest park was beautiful with the Hutt River rumbling through, and we did the Norbert Creek Loop which involved a steep climb through beech forest and getting our feet wet in Norbert several times (once intentionally). A good intro to tramping ( 'hiking' in the UK) for Tom!

A relaxed evening in front of 'Hunt for the Wilderpeople' set us up for the wine festival 'Toast Martinborough' on Sunday. Logistically impressive and with great entertainment, if a little expensive overall, the festival had us sipping rosé, wandering through vines, sipping chardonnay, lying on the grass, sipping fizz, admiring glamorous outfits, sipping pinot noir, eating small desserts, sipping reisling, dancing to a folk band, sipping ???, eating ice cream, queuing for a bus, bopping to an 80s girl covers band, eating pizza, sipping water and finally sleeping all the way back on the train.

On a wine hunt

We managed to watch a second kiwi classic, 'What We Do in the Shadows', before crawling to bed. Tom headed off to Nelson and the Abel Tasman on Monday. Roger and I headed to work, and tried to zen/exercise off Toast with yoga and a run. Tom returned with tales of dolphins, inlet wading and a ghost in the historic hut.

Following repeated boasts of epic tramping adventures, we convinced ourselves and Tom to attempt the Tongariro Alpine Crossing on Saturday, despite the weather warnings of our Auckland-based Airbnb host (who clearly hadn’t mastered the 3-day Rain Radar forecast on the Metservice website like we have). We rose at 5am and were on the trail at 5.50am (with apologies to Trish, who as our 'emergency contact' was woken up by our good morning text). It was an 'atmospheric' morning, which is a good way of saying 'cloudy'. But it did make us look at the volcanic rock, the marshy flats and rivers more closely than the last time we walked over the Crossing. Resisting the temptation to fall headfirst into the marsh like Frodo, we pushed upwards over the saddle and into the South Crater. Which really was 'atmospheric'. We wouldn’t have been able to continue without the poles marking the route.

 

Climbing the far side towards the Red Crater we encountered increasing wind and had to have some chocolate behind a rock. Arriving at the Red Crater sign post we were the only ones on the mountain! We battled through the wind that sent cloud pouring up and over the ridgeline to the summit of Mt. Tongariro via a couple of snow patches. Sitting out of the wind, a 9am lunch of cheese-and-avocado-baguettes revived our sense of adventure and we returned to the Red Crater (still obscured by cloud) to find we had company at last. Several groups emerged and disappeared into the mist.

Descending towards the Emerald Lakes, the low cloud suddenly cleared and we were blown away figuratively for once, by the view that appeared below. Excitedly we checked out the lakes and lava flow, before starting the descent to Ketatahi carpark.

Dora and Tom, with gaseous volcano in the background

New to Roger and I, this winding track gives views of significant volcanic activity, including damaged Ketatahi hut, where the bunk room was hit by a falling rock a few years ago in the most recent small eruption. Our second lunch there passed uneventfully and we wound our way down through bush and across a lahar path to the carpark.

The spa pool (hot tub) at the Airbnb was perfect for tired legs and celebrating Tom’s acceptance as a Detective. Luckily we’d brought some prosecco. Then we reluctantly left the log-burnered house for a hearty dinner at the Speights pub (the only place to be in National Park of an evening), thwarted by the lack of takeaways.

View downhill from the Brooklyn Turbine,
which generates enough power for about 490 homes

Sunday was a culinary adventure. We started at the Station Café in national park, with pancakes and eggs (not on the same plate), then drove through the rain to Craigend for a yummy salmon flan, Shand signature date-and-orange scones and a Weta viewing. Back in sunny Wellington we drove briefly up to the Brooklyn Turbine for panoramas of the city and rubbish tip, before joining my uncle Douglas for an impromptu dinner.

On Tom’s last night we ate vegetarian at Cuba St Bistro (recently discovered and also does very good steak) before enjoying the art deco décor and the engaging but ultimately flawed film Allied at the Embassy Cinema (venue for the LOTR premieres).

We bade farewell to Tom on Tuesday. New Zealand has lost a charming Brit, and Britain has gained a charming detective.

This weekend we're boarding the party plane to an engagement part in Christchurch. We'll tell you all about it next week, and may even include some Go Pro footage from our South Island adventure.

Testing the macro lens on Mt. Tongariro