Coromandel Peninsula

We've fled the confines of Auckland and spent the past few days in calm and friendly campgrounds all around the Coromandel Peninsula. Camping is the way to go if you want to fall asleep to the sound of waves, be surrounded by cheerful families and only pay about 12 dollars a night.

The Coromandel peninsula has a rugged mountainous interior, most of which is preserved as parkland, and a stunning coast. The mountains (you Coloradans would call them hills) are covered in dense forests of ferns, palms, kauri and countless species I've never seen before--in New Zealand ferns grow as trees. We went for a couple of hikes through this tangle of life and were at times deafened by the chittering, buzzing drone of millions of insects. These insects do not sleep, they just desperately click twenty-four hours a day.

The roads through this land were built by a bunch of men having a laugh. They twist and turn and wind over themselves, you speed downhill winding right and then complete the turn and start a sharp ascent, veering left. Over and over again. I felt like a ballerina, Chris felt like a race car driver, a nauseous race car driver.

After chugging our way up and down, left and right, to the top of the tippiest toppiest top of a mountain we pulled over for a scenic overlook. I slammed the door, camera in hand, and skipped to the ledge. Goodness you can smell the rubber off the tires, golly you can smell something else too, something more sinister. It is the smell of the car oozing plumes of steam and who knows what else. We threw the hood open and watched in horror as water bubbled and danced on top of the radiator. Fortunately in this parking lot there was no shortage of holiday-makers to offer advice and condolences. The crowds agreed that the car had overheated and lost water, this was clear from the not-so-clear stream of water trickling out from under the car. But why did we lose our water, overheat, this was up for debate. Every man had his own opinion; leaking hoses, too much water, too little water, bad radiator, holes in the radiator, one pessimist even speculated it was our head gasket. The head gasket is not something you want to lose, or so it seemed from his expression.

After a bit, and the help of an older couple from England, we decided it had been the fan. Apparently in a Mazda Capella you must turn on your AC to cool off the engine, their is no other overheat fan, and as the morning had been cool and shaded we hadn't use the air at all. All day today we've had the AC blasting and the engine seems fine, so don't worry!

Right now we're in an internet cafe in Tauranga, one of the larger cities on the coast of the Bay of Plenty. We stopped in Katikati (this doubling up on words is pretty common) to talk to a man about a job, but he regretfully informed us he doesn't have work for ladies, he's looking for more lads to help prune and clean up his kiwi orchard. In a month there'll be picking to do and anyone can pick. Even we feeble ladies. He also requires his workers lodge in the hostel he owns, so you have to pay 120$ for a dorm bed to work for him.