What I Did On My Holidays

We got back a week ago from Ohope Beach in New Zealand but it's taken me forever to whirr into action. I thought I'd tell you about three really fun things we did, just in case you ever get down that way. (Sorry if this is starting to sound like a 4th grade essay....) It's all about bulls' balls, arsenic bubbles and bums. (Yes, very 4th grader)

Mum and Dad's house at Ohope Beach

The Opotiki Rodeo:
In a field in Opotiki, a remote town between the mountains and the sea, every year there is a rodeo (my friend pointed out I was erroneously pronouncing it like Rodeo Drive) which attracts world class cowboys riding the bunkingest of broncos. I was totally captivated by the hootenany drama until a bloke sitting next to me told me the animals buck because they have their balls tied tight for a few seconds.
"Painful, yes" my neighbour said: "But quicker than marriage."
He added: "When my wife comes back from getting the hotdogs, don't tell her I said that."

Oooow! Cy, cousin Leah, Tallulah and me

Bike Ride up the Motu River:
The long term plan in New Zealand is to have bike paths running from the top of the North Island to the bottom of the South Island. This seven-hour ride up the Motu is part of that vision. It has it all: old skool Kiwi farmland with number eight wire fences and rusty corrugated iron barns, deep Middle Earth forests and beach dunes with eight-year old kids riding horses bareback and their toddler brothers clutching around their waists.
We rented mountain bikes from the very helpful  John of Bushaven who also dropped us off on a remote farm road in his van.  It turned out the bikepath was missing a few dots - or rather the quarter of a mile between beach and hill - and I found myself wandering the beach for half an hour like a scruffy French Lieutenant's Woman until Dad found me.

Sister Pietra, me and friend Reece

Riding through the dunes

Harley (middle) "safely" at home on the couch with his cousins

There were 12 of us riding including Harley, 15, and Jackson, 13.  Harley whined at the start: "How could you make Jackson and me do this? We don't even know how to ride mountain bikes! How could you do this to us?"

White Island, an active volanic island:
This island is 1hr20mins off the coast by boat or a few mins by helicopter and they actually allow you to stand right at the edge of the crater (no fences! ) and stare in. This is something you could never do in America (because of the litigious society) which makes it more or less attractive depending on who you are talking to. We went with PeeJays which boats you across and drops you off with a guide, gas mask and hard hat. Like walking on a scary moonscape, you can also taste of the bubbling arsenic streams (only trace so it won't hurt you.) The island is currently blowing at Level 2 -  if it reached Level 5, you'd have hot balls the size of cars coming at your face. The fact that miners spent three months on this place is incredible (they were paid the equivalent of $200 per day)

Boating out to White Island

Me and Tallulah wearing gas masks on White Island

This somehow gives the impression we were flat tack the whole time, adventuring. In fact most of the time was spent strolling the golden triangle along the beach: from our bach (beach cottage) to Mum and Dad's house and back to the shops - for lollies, lattes and full brekkie.

Full brekkie at the Quay Cafe

Cousin Leah and Tallulah walking the golden triangle

Good to be back - our flight back was delayed 24 hours, loads of lining up to wait, which always makes you glad to be back in your own bed. I'm also looking forward to reading your blogs like, as Jen would say, a stack of really great magazines.