Instead of heading north along the east coast (where roads are still closed due to water covering the highways) we buck the trend and head west along Highway 14 to Dargaville, with a plan to head north up the west coast and then circle around to the Bay Of Islands once the flooding chaos is all dried up. Apparently, word on the highway is that Paihia only has enough fresh water for a day and half — if so, then we're avoiding that way until the flood mess is all sorted.
But first we have a nail in our tire to deal with.
And some fun at the camp ground...
We switch to the spare and call in on Dez of All About Tyres to fix us up. (Thankfully, he's open on Sundays!) He and his father run a small tire/bait shop in Kamo just outside of Whangarei and he's expecting us, after a pre-call from Andrew of Cruzy Campers. "The only day we close is Christmas Day, " says Dez, examining the nail gunned tire. "I'll have you fixed up in no time."
And he does. When we mention we're heading west to avoid the flooding, he chuckles and brings us into his office to show us photos on his computer. "That's me house, there." He shows us an image of a home swallowed up by water. "Me and the family were sleeping and at some point around 2:00 in the morning, I noticed the sheets were wet and water was flowing onto the bed. Uh oh, I says. That's when we decided it was time to leave. My son was splashing about in the living room, having a lovely time!"
His house is devastated by the flood and yet Dez seems completely unfazed (could it be shock!?). "We moved over to my parent's house. They're going to be surprised when they come back from holiday next week and find us living there!"
For a mere $30 NZ, Dez removes the nail and seals our tire up. He also repairs the spare, which we notice is leaking at the valve. (Good thing we find this out now...)
Dez talks away about his business. He's on call 24 hours and gets called in at all times to help people out with tire problems. He seems perfectly content to be doing what he is doing — no complaints or sighs about being on call 24 hours or being open 7 days a week. He takes his time, does a careful job. He enjoys helping people out and chatting as he does so. He also likes to catch very big fish.
Outside the New World supermarket, we meet Peter and Margueritte, breeders of Borzoi dogs and who just happen to have three of them, along with a whippet and a bull staffordshire terrier, laid out in their custom made kennel trailer as they head home from a dog show. We admire their pups and in no time, the couple has whipped out a piece of paper with their full address and phone number. They invite us to stay at their place outside of Rotorua when we're down that way.
"It'll save you on camping fees," says Margueritte. "We have lots of land and a fresh water stream — you can just pull your camper up and stay with us."
Who are these people?
Of course we'll do it. It's all about going with the flow and if someone invites us to come and stay, that means we have to go — don't fight what comes your way, we say. We have a growing file of addresses, phone numbers and eMail contacts in our camper's front seat storage box. Did we mention that the New Zealanders were friendly?
Finally, we get ourselves on the winding road headed for Dargaville. Jenn drives and is pushed now and then by tanker trucks making their milk run (this is dairy country) which ride up the back bumper of the Scubby. We find places to pull over and let them pass, tooting their horn in thanks when we do so (at least we think they're thanking us?)
The landscape is green pasture and hills, dotted with cows and shorn sheep.
We arrive in Dargaville and stop at the information centre. The government run i-Site that used to be there was closed a couple of years ago, so a cheerful lady has taken it upon herself to open her own information centre. On display next door is the woodwork of her husband who carves from the giant kauri trees. Again, another New Zealander totally content with her life situation. "I meet all sorts of people from all over and I get to help them," she gushes. Due to all the flooding, she and her husband have missed out on a three day boat cruise around the Bay Of Islands. Instead of complaining about what should have been, she's opens her information centre and spends her long weekend helping people like us.
She recommends places to go and visit along the west coast and northern tip and up we go, heading first to Trounson Kauri Park which is home to the large kauri trees which date back some 1200 to 2000 years. We set up our camp at a DOC site (Department of Conservation), have a late lunch and then do a tranquil 40 minute walk through the forest.
We are the only other people at the site except for a Britz camper van with three German lads playing rugby, but over the next few hours more people arrive and by 7:00 p.m., it is almost full — campers coming in for the night hike and a chance to spot fat eels in the creeks and maybe the elusive kiwi bird.
The driver of the red camper beside us an unkempt man in his early 40's with stringy hair and dressed like a bike courier — black shorts, top and ball hat. At first, Jenn and I wonder what we're in for and yet Frank turns out to be the most good natured and informative man, chatting with us from the moment he opens his door. He and his partner, Eva, have lived in New Zealand for the past 18 years, having come from Germany, but they have left their home in Christchurch, looking for somewhere else to settle down on the island. Somewhere with work. Somewhere cheaper, with more friendly people. They have been on the road for nine months. We can't imagine there is a place in New Zealand where people are not friendly, but he feels NZ is slowly changing.
"Everything is money here now. Greedy people. Prices are going up for food, for attractions. It didn't use to be like that. I don't think it's right."
Jenn and I have to agree. We are surprised at how much food costs here in NZ and the fact that all tourist attractions have some sort of fee attached. Franks says this is the New NZ. "It's a feeding frenzy of money, like the stoats when they smell blood!"
We soon lean that Frank is a thrifty man and takes pleasure in finding a bargain — whether it is cheap potatoes at the Pak 'n Save, a secret campsite with low fees or a way to see a tourist attraction without paying. He is also obsessed about getting robbed (something to do with the bike he carries about with him in the van) and shares with us all the places to watch our valuables.
He's entertaining and genuine and so knowledgable about New Zealand. A naturalist at heart, he regales us with stories about the forests and monterey pines, about eels and the birds of New Zealand.
He encourages us to do the night walk through the forest, to see the weta, the bats, the snails and maybe, just maybe, if we're lucky, the kiwi bird.
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