MistyNites

My Life in Motion

Archive for the tag “North Island”

Taranaki Time

It was a long and tiring 5hr traverse across the country. I had left the sun shining on the east coast at Castlepoint but as I headed west and north, the clouds built up. Towns and cities came and went as I skirted round Masterton and up to Palmerston North and onward to Bulls. I would have loved to have stopped in Whanganui for a bit, a city that I spent a few days in some years prior, but there was still some way to go, so I pushed on west, ever hopeful for a view of Mount Taranaki, one of the country’s most distinguishable volcanic cones. But the clouds were low and kept it hidden. As I drove up the eastern flank, you wouldn’t even have known there was a mountain there.

The evening light was weakening as I pulled up at my Air BnB in New Plymouth, a city I’d wanted to visit for some time. I had 2 nights booked there and I’d had grand plans of hiking around the lower slopes of Mount Taranaki. It was mid-September and I knew the snow would still be an issue higher up, and I didn’t have the time to do any multi-day treks, so I was ready to just explore the lower reaches of the mountain. But for my whole stay, the entire reason I’d come to the region barely showed itself, the cloud sitting low day after day after day. It was a slight frustration but it did mean I was able to explore a bit more of the region than I’d expected to, and the area firmly put itself on the list of places to return to in the future.

My Air BnB was right on the coast and I could hear the sea from my room. It was also facing the side of sunset, providing me with a lovely vista as the sun dropped low to the horizon soon after my arrival. The clouds added a dramatic splash of colour that first night as the sun set behind the islands of Lion Rock and Moturoa just offshore in the Taranaki Bight. After grabbing takeout, I had a lovely quiet evening planning my adventures over the coming days.

 

I awoke to sunshine and clearer skies. After the previous day’s long drive, I was planning on exploring on foot. New Plymouth has a long coastal promenade that from where I was staying led off in both directions along the coast. Dotted along the route are a series of sculptures or works of art to draw attention away from the rolling waves. One of the more well known ones, and one that I wasn’t really enamoured with, was the Wind Wand, a very tall metallic pole that swings with the breeze. I continued all the way to Port Taranaki where Ngamotu beach marked the end of the coastal walkway.

 

But my goal was Paritutu Rock, the rather distinctive pointed geological feature that is visible from some distance away. I had to cut up through a rather industrial part of the city to reach the car park and the start of the trail up to its summit, but I was rather disappointed to discover that the summit trail was closed for my entire stay while track work was performed. I at least had a more close up view of the collection of offshore islands that were nearby. I considered walking round the corner to Back beach but it was downhill, so having decided I wasn’t in the mood for the extra distance and climb on the way back, I started to head back towards the city.

 

The main road offered little interest on route beyond the occasional piece of street art, but I eventually found myself at Puke Ariki, one of the city’s museums. It wasn’t the largest or most interesting of museums but it did have a few things that caught my attention, including a sign discussing a virus outbreak as a future global emergency, something that hadn’t yet happened when the sign was erected, but had become quite ironic at my time of visiting in 2020. From here, I had a walking route to take through the city to spot the variety of street art that is dotted around the place. I’m a big fan of street murals, and New Plymouth has many of them. Next to the museum was a 2-storey high tui, and spanning out from there I recognised artwork by some of my favourite street artists.

 

It was a convoluted route past space creatures, portrait mashups and a giant elephant. There was even a beautiful landscape mural depicting Mount Taranaki to make up for my lack of view. But it wasn’t long before the city streets melted away as I entered the ornate gateway into Pukekura Park, a sprawling green space at the back of the city. It was a week day, so although there were plenty of other people around, it didn’t feel crammed, and I was easily able to procure a table at the Tea House On The Lake. I was staring directly at the summit of Mount Taranaki, invisible as it was, behind the clouds. Intermittently, for brief seconds, a snow-capped peak appeared before it was quickly enveloped once more. On a cloud-free day, this vista across the lake, with its distinctive red arched bridge below the peak of the mountain is one of the city’s more well known mountain photography spots.

 

It’s a beautiful spot for a wander. From the lake the trails crisscrossed through beautiful bush with the sounds of native birds to keep me company. The furthest away lake was the prettiest, and meadow flowers were in bloom in the green space at the farther end of the park. I spotted plump kereru, noisy myna, a sacred kingfisher and tui as I skirted up the hill from the Bowl of Brooklands, past Brooklands Zoo and back towards the lakes. I love visiting gardens in the spring. It always feels like so much life is thriving as the flowers burst into bloom and the birds go about mating and breeding. Near the cafe, the Pukekura Falls added an additional sound element to the call of the birds as I headed back towards the park entrance, and I was quickly made aware of the fact that there were shags nesting in the trees on the bank of the lake.

 

Eventually I exited the park, cutting back through the city past more murals to return to the coastal walkway. Ignoring my tired feet, I headed off in the opposite direction from the morning, passing recreational reserves and East End Beach before feeling like I’d left the city behind at Waiwhakaiho Reserve where a broad river opens out into the sea. There was a lot more activity here with cyclists, walkers, joggers, and dog owners all pounding the track.

 

Down in the river bed, a myriad of shags were drying themselves, but I was here to see the famous Te Rewa Rewa bridge, a white-arced structure that spans the river. Aside from the uniqueness of the bridge structure itself, it’s more well known for photos showing it framing the peak of Mount Taranaki. But although I was under glorious sunshine and a blue sky, when I reached the other side and turned around, as I already knew it would be, the mountain was nowhere to be seen, a bank of cloud hiding its existence.

I planned on continuing on to Bell Block beach, but after a few bends of the coastline, I decided that my feet had had too much. Turning around, I re-crossed the bridge then decided on a whim to circumnavigate the nearby Lake Rotomanu, a manmade lake nearby. As I headed back along the coast I could see windsurfers out in the evening surf, and when I eventually returned to my Air BnB, I was able to watch another sunset with the added drama of a changing cloud pattern to send streaks of light across the sky.

The following day turned into one of frustration. I awoke to a slightly overcast and stormy day but I had a lot of ground to cover so was quick to leave my accommodation behind and get going. Despite a need to head south, I turned north and drove for an hour up the winding state highway away from New Plymouth. Once past Waitara, it was effectively rural, with greenery spanning both sides of the road. Eventually I pulled off onto Clifton Road and found myself at the car park for the Three Sisters and Elephant Rock. I’d wanted to visit these coastal structures for years, and had been disappointed to hear that one of them had partially collapsed in an earthquake a few years prior. But it was to be a must-do excursion when I was planning this roadie, so to say I was gutted to get to the car park and realise that I couldn’t reach them was an under statement.

Despite investigating location and transit, I had failed to notice in advance that they are only accessible at low tide. As I got out the car, I looked at the gushing flow of the Tongaporutu river and stared incredulously at the sign that showed I needed to follow the river bank down to the sea. Only there was no river bank, just a high level water and no route to take me there. It was clearly high tide, not even close to being accessible, so I had to admit defeat and leave. A quick look on Google maps though had me spot a lookout just along the road, so I headed across the river and up the hill to an unmarked road with an unmarked car park and an unmarked track. But the views from the hillside made up for the lack of beach access. Although Mount Taranaki was once again invisible, I could see for miles down the coast, and the various sea stacks stood tall against the brunt of the waves that rolled in from the Tasman Sea.

 

On the way back to New Plymouth I cut down to Bell Block beach to see what I’d missed the day before. It felt rough and wild so I didn’t stay long. I only skirted the edge of New Plymouth, taking State Highway 3 south to Lake Mangamahoe. This was one of those places I’d wanted to visit for some time, in part because, like many people, I had spotted a photo on social media and felt compelled to see it for myself. The walk from the car park turned out to be rather bland with only fleeting glimpses of the lake, however it didn’t take long to reach the lookout with its famous view, only to realise once again that the cloud-shrouded mountain rather deflected from its potential glory. It felt a little underwhelming.

 

The track continued around the lake, with views patchy in places. On the south bank of the lake there is a redwood forest, where the path leads through foreign giants. It’s hard not to love redwoods even if they are an introduced species. To complete the loop round the lake, the track eventually joined the road I’d driven up, and I have to admit I was eager to get back to my car by the end of it. I think my expectations had been a little high, and as such my opinion of the place probably doesn’t serve it much justice. Yet as I pulled out of the reserve and cut round the back of New Plymouth to follow the Taranaki coastline round its volcanic cone, I was unaware that my frustrations were only going to get worse.

Wairarapa Wanderings

I awoke to a feeling of solitude. I’d arrived in darkness the night before, just the sound of waves crashing on the nearby shore and some low-level lights at the holiday park the only distraction from the darkness. There were few other people around when I ventured out, but I had a full day of exploring to do so I was quick to get breakfast in my stomach, load up the car and get going. Everything ahead of me for the day was to be new territory: a corner of the country that I hadn’t visited before and that had me quietly excited.

The road grew rougher as I headed east, skirting the coastline under some tall bluffs before leading me down a dirt track round the corner of the cape to the Cape Palliser lighthouse at the south-eastern point of New Zealand’s North Island. There was a decent blow about the place and I headed straight to the track leading up to the lighthouse. At the time of visiting in September 2020, there was some repair work being done to the lower track, but then most of the way is a very steep staircase and as I neared the top I was nearly blown off my feet. The platform on which the lighthouse stands strides the corner of the cape and the wind was slamming from one side to the other. I fought the wind as long as I could to stare out at the Pacific Ocean rolling in from both sides. I’d had an early start thanks to staying nearby, but as I headed back down the steps a few more cars began to appear. I picked my way across the rocky beach for a short distance before returning to my car and beginning to head west.

 

Almost immediately I pulled in at the nearby fur seal colony. The track was rough on my little 2-wheel car but I was able to avoid the boggy bits and find a dry spot to stop. I didn’t have to walk far to find fur seals, they were draped out to dry all over the place and I had to pick a spot to watch them while still allowing them their space. A few of them gave me some side-eye, but most of them kept sleeping as if I wasn’t there. I watched the antics of those leaping about a rock pool for a while before continuing. The road wasn’t in the best state. There had clearly been some storm damage in places that hadn’t quite been repaired yet. It was a rugged coastline and the sun was out but there were limited options to pull over and enjoy the view or take photographs.

 

Some distance along I pulled off the main road into Putangirua Scenic Reserve. I’d wanted to come here for a long time, partly because of what was here, and partly because it was a location shoot for the original Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. I still remember watching those movies back in Scotland when I was at uni, and I would have never for a minute imagined at the time that I’d end up emigrating to New Zealand. Even without the movie reference, it’s a nice walk to do in the area. Starting from the car park, the track snakes alongside a river, a mix of rocks and sand underfoot, gradually gaining height until it turns a corner and then it’s a rougher route up a boulder field following a semi-well trodden path to the target: the Putangirua Pinnacles, reached in about 40 or so minutes.

Movie buffs will recognise these giant stony structures as the Dimholt Road in the third Lord of the Rings movie, where Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas go in search of the dead. Subject to natural erosive forces, it’s a very dynamic area with scree and moving stones all over the place. The structures reminded me of the Clay Cliffs near Omarama in the South Island, but these ones are much more stony, and the walking underfoot felt much more treacherous. But there were so many passageways to explore and I was determined to poke my nose into as many of them as I could safely negotiate. Down in this valley I felt utterly tiny looking up at the sheer walls of the various spiky peaked pinnacles.

 

Rather than just head straight back, I picked my way back to a track junction half way back to the car park. This led me up the steep valley side through dense bush to a lookout giving me a bird’s eye view across to the pinnacles. This was the more classic view that I’d seen online, and up here exposed in the sunshine, it was turning into a belter of a day. From here, I opted to follow the 4-wheel drive track that leads down through farmland and takes a more scenic route back to the main road. Once I was properly out of the trees the view started to open up in multiple directions. Inland, there were rolling hills, and I could just about make out a snow-capped mountain in the South Island across the Cook Strait. To my front right was the sweeping expanse of Palliser Bay, glistening in the sunshine, and behind it, the long range of the Remutakas was shrouded in cloud demarcating so abruptly the great weather I was experiencing.

 

It was such a glorious walk, and as I picked my way down the ridge line I was startled by a green lizard running across the path. Further down the track entered farmland and some sheep were grazing the pasture as I followed the orange-topped poles lower and lower, passing small ponds and invasive gorse before eventually finding myself teetering above the road before the final descent down right by the bay. It was a short walk along the road side to reach the track back into Putangirua Scenic Reserve and my car. All up, it had been around 3hrs since I’d set off.

 

I stopped for lunch at Lake Ferry, a non-descript little settlement on the shore of Lake Onoke. It wasn’t the most picturesque spot despite the lake, but there were plenty of people on the edge of the bay hoping to catch some seafood. The weather was starting to dull a little as I set off, and I was pushing north for a couple of hours cutting up inland to Martinborough and out the other side. I contemplated getting my car looked at in Masterton following its escapades on the drive north from Kaikoura 2 days prior, but it had been mostly behaving itself since, and I didn’t really fancy getting stuck there not to mention that the quickest route to my destination bypassed the city.

From Martinborough, it felt like I was on back roads for the rest of the trip, snaking my way through rural New Zealand until eventually the road turned east again and it was a long and windy trip back to the east coast at Castlepoint. Although the sun was out on this side of the country, the wind had clearly continued to pick up since I’d been at Cape Palliser lighthouse that morning, and now there were wind warnings out for the region. I checked into my cabin at the local holiday park and was quick to get down onto the beach. The wind wasn’t going to stop me from enjoying a walk along the coast.

Castlepoint is at the southern end of a long, shallow, sweeping bay which terminates at a promontory atop which stands the Castlepoint lighthouse. The tide was in so part of the beach was cut off, sending me up onto the road, but the access track onto the promontory was still reachable. But while the wind had been buffeting me on the walk round, it was full on whacking me from all sides as I walked up to the lighthouse. When the gusts hit I had to hold onto the barrier in some places. There were a few hardy people there with me, walking around the track, soaking up the gorgeous view from the top of the rocks. The sun was setting by the time I decided to head back to the holiday park, and I discovered that Castlepoint was the windiest place in the country that day, with gusts peaking at 148km/hr that night.

 

The peak had passed by the morning but it was still quite windy. I was quick to get back out onto the beach once I was ready for the day. Aside from the promontory, to the south there is another distinctive coastal formation in the form of the Gap and Castle Rock. An open lagoon has been created by a spit of land heading south that is broken from the neighbouring portion of coastline, creating an inlet for the sea to come in. Skirting the back of it is the Deliverance Cove track which leads up the hillside for a view down on the landscape. There was hardly anyone else there although I could see a woman down on the beach doing hula hoop tricks as I walked.

 

Once on the southern ridge, the wind was slapping me in the face again, but looking south there was another long sweeping beach. In front of me was the hulk of Castle Rock which, while not having an official track up it, clearly had a well worn route up to the top. The worst of the wind had passed, but it was still hours away from the gust warning being dropped. I didn’t have time to wait and this was my one and only shot to get up there, so where necessary I hunkered low to the ground wherever it was more exposed. The direction of the wind was thankfully blowing me into the hillside and not into the sea so while not ideal, it wasn’t quite as dodgy an idea as it could have been.

 

And the views were totally worth it. Not only is the sweeping and rugged coast beautiful in both directions, the immediate prospect looking straight down the rocky ridge line to the lighthouse is spectacular. The combination of early morning and early spring meant the sun created an unfortunate glare on the glistening blue Pacific Ocean, but I still loved the view despite getting a little dazzled. The very top of Castle Rock would have been a perfect spot for a picnic and staring out at the ocean but the wind just wasn’t letting up and I had a long drive ahead that afternoon. So I headed back down the track and cut down to the beach behind the sea inlet.

 

As I neared the beach I spotted a New Zealand fur seal which had hauled itself out of the ocean. His chunky mane identified him as a male, and I was sure to give him a wide berth as I passed. There were now more people around as I neared the northern end of the inlet and the sandy bridge that connects the two beaches. I headed back on to the promontory and up towards the lighthouse where I was able to walk around without quite the same level of buffeting as the night before.

 

On the nearby rocks I looked for fossils and found some shellfish remains embedded in the rock, partly exposed and already beginning to disintegrate. By the time I’d finished exploring it was lunchtime and with a five-hour drive ahead of me it was time to get going. Since arriving in New Zealand in 2012, I’ve managed to cover large chunks of the country, with a shrinking list of unvisited places. Now, I was on route to another of the few places I’d never been before, and there were a few hundred kilometers to cover to get there.

Spring Getaway

I was supposed to be gallivanting around Europe. I had booked an epic 6 week trip taking me through Singapore to Germany and on to Scotland to see my family, before taking a road trip up the west coast of Norway. I was one of the millions of people to have overseas trips canned because of COVID. In August 2020, it was then 2 years since I’d seen my family, and I had no idea when I’d see them again next. The 6 week leave from work was pointless so I cancelled 4 weeks of it, and left myself the last 2 in mid-September, figuring I’d take a wee spring roadie around New Zealand.

The final week of winter was a mixed bag weather-wise with gorgeous blue sky days with a winter chill in the air, followed by grey days, or a hint of warmth. I spent the last weekend of August walking around the city. Christchurch is not everyone’s cup of tea, and some visitors still fail to see beyond the earthquake scars that are still present on some city streets, but I love it here, and I enjoy a good wander around the place on a regular basis. I used the Avon river as a route finder, following its course past Margaret Mahy playground, and finding I had the giant swing all to myself. In my opinion swings have no age limit, and I’ll happily have a go at seeing how high I can get if I see a vacant one on a lazy day.

 

Spring is my favourite season to visit the city’s botanic gardens. The garden city had been ignoring the fact that it was winter for quite a few weeks by this point, with the daffodil lawns next to the hospital in full bloom even in August. It was warm enough to walk around in a t-shirt and I took a seat on the mosaic chair for a bit before returning to the flowers. The first of the cherry blossoms had bloomed, although the main event was still weeks away. Away from the gardens, the city felt a little empty but just a week later, it was buzzing, and with a DJ playing on the balcony at Riverside Market, I had that excited feeling that comes with the turn of the season, and the thrill of the impending months of spring and summer ahead.

 

The trees were still bare, but the buildings on the Terrace were colourful, and reflected in the gently flowing water of the Avon river. It’s a popular spot to sit and eat lunch, on the steps down to the river where the eels wait for some scraps, and a myriad of water fowl paddle around. Cutting across the city centre, I took a wander around some of the sculptures in the east frame of the city. Some large spray cans formed a canvas for some changing artwork, and a large rusty-looking jagged spire sticks up towards the blue sky, framed by the Port Hills. The flatness of the city centre makes it the perfect place to explore on foot or bike.

 

After a morning of work, I set off north the next weekend, for the winding drive to Kaikoura. The mountains of the Kaikoura Range were snow-capped, framing the bay and the town itself, so I headed to the lookout at the top of the peninsula hill to take it all in from a slight vantage point. I wasn’t staying here though, it was just a handy place to stretch my legs after a few hours of driving. With the late start in the afternoon, I didn’t stay long as I still had a few hours of driving ahead of me.

 

But as I continued on the winding road north from there, my car lost power on an uphill bend. Thankfully it was only brief, and no warning lights came on, but further along the road it happened again. This really wasn’t the kind of road to lose power on, as there’s so many hills and bends to negotiate between the coast and Picton, my destination. Most of the time it was driving fine though, and as I arrived in Picton in darkness on a Saturday night, I tried to allay any concerns, and focused on settling into my accommodation. It was a very basic hostel and a quiet one at that with no international travellers, but I was happy to be joined by a cat that looked so similar to my own.

It was a beautiful sunny Sunday when I awoke, and my car was behaving itself as I drove out to Waikawa Bay. The marina was full of boats swaying gently with the ebb of the water. The mountainous ridge where the Queen Charlotte track hides sat across the water of the Queen Charlotte Sound. A little further around the coast is Karaka Point where a short walk from the car park leads down a small spit to a flight of steps down to a small beach. The views here are incredible. New Zealand is full of stunning landscapes, and the Marlborough Sounds is one of my favourite scenic regions. The sea within the sounds was so calm, and there were rolling green hillsides in all directions.

 

From the top of the stairs to the beach, I spotted a New Zealand fur seal gliding through the water nearby. It had a large linear gash on its lower back that I’m convinced was a propeller injury from a boat. It was full skin thickness, exposing raw red flesh underneath, and it looked relatively fresh. The seal appeared to be swimming normally despite this wound but it was sad to see, and I’m sure it would be in a lot of pain with an exposed wound like that. One of many examples of the harmful outcomes from human and wildlife interactions. It stayed out in the water as I watched it now from the beach, cruising up and down the coast as I followed the stony beach round the headland onto the rocks. I spotted another fur seal cruising in the water, and a little off shore, some small sea birds were fluttering and diving for food.

It was so peaceful, and I’ve no idea how long I stood on those rocks for, but when I turned back around the headland, I found the injured fur seal had hauled out right by the base of the steps. It put its mouth on its wound, and I knew it needed to rest, but it was blocking my exit, and I couldn’t leave it alone without first disturbing it. Unfortunately it took off back into the water as I approached and I was quick to exit the beach in the hope it would come back out again. I savoured the views as I headed back to my car, returning to Waikawa Bay for a walk around the foreshore. Now there were many locals out enjoying the place, but it was still so peaceful, and I stayed here before heading back to Picton for brunch, which I ate out while watching the inter-island ferries come and go.

 

I always feel like I’m on a grand adventure if I have to fly or sail somewhere. I checked in for the lunchtime sailing on the Bluebridge ferry, and counted down till boarding, eager to set sail. The crossing from Picton to Wellington is one of the most beautiful ferry crossings I’ve ever done, in particular the hour and a half that it takes to sail between Picton and the Cook Strait. It was not only calm, but it was a semi-blue sky with just some thin clouds to blur the sun a little, and I was certainly going to spend the entire time out on the deck admiring the view. The first few times I sailed the Cook Strait, I’d taken the Interislander ferries, but the last couple of times I’ve taken the Bluebridge, due to the convenience of their sailing times for my needs. They’re very different ships, and on the Bluebridge ferry the outdoor passenger deck looks down over the vehicle deck, and on that particular sailing there was a truck loaded with sheep among the cargo trucks.

 

The inter-island ferries seem like utter behemoths compared to the little boats that ploughed the waters within the sound. Being a Sunday, there were lots of private sail boats out and about, and every now and again a water taxi or fishing boat whizzed by, all utterly dwarfed by the ferry, and all having to contend with the wake the ferry created behind it as it cruised slowly by. It was cold out on deck, and I needed gloves and a windbreak, but there was no way I was going inside with the scenery as beautiful as this. From the blue water, to the rolling green hills in every direction, there’s just nothing like it. Then as the ferry snakes through the sounds, and a gap finally becomes visible in the distance, the North Island suddenly comes in to view and the Cook Strait becomes broader and broader.

 

The North Island looks so tangible from this point, and yet it takes a full hour to cross it. I’ve had one rough crossing in the past, otherwise mostly I’ve been lucky with the weather on the trip over. This time round there was a strong cross wind and a bit of chop, but the limited spray meant I could still stay out on deck. The blue sky had all gone though, and the cloud overhead turned the water a steely grey colour. As we headed east towards the entrance to Wellington harbour, I could see the snow-capped mountains of the northern end of the Kaikoura Range poking up above the north coast of the South Island.

 

From the green hills of the Marlborough Sounds, the urban sprawl that appears on entering Wellington harbour is such a contrast. Again a myriad of boats moved around us, and city life framed the coast as we sailed round Miramar Peninsula and deeper into the harbour. The office buildings and the sky scrapers of the country’s small capital city grew larger as we crept towards our berth. Everywhere you looked there were signs of movement and life despite the greyness of the day. I stayed on deck till the last possible minute when drivers were called down to the car deck to ready to disembark. The car deck was mostly empty with only a handful of trucks and cars, so once the ramp was down I didn’t need to wait too long before I was signalled to move forward and head off.

But there was to be no lingering in the capital as I still had some distance to travel to reach my bed for the night. I was soon out of the city and in new territory for me, heading north-east around the back of the bay and up into the Hutt Valley. I had a two-hour drive that led me up into the winding hilly road that crosses Remutaka Hill. There’s so many hiking and biking trails around here, and I would have loved to have stopped and explored some of them, but it was well into the evening, and the light was getting low.

I’d never been to the Wairarapa region before, and turning off the main highway, I soon found myself deep in rural Wairarapa, seeing fewer and fewer cars as I eventually hit the south coast as the sun readied to set. I don’t like driving unfamiliar roads in the dark, but the Cape Palliser road wasn’t exactly a place to get lost. However, the sea came right up to the road in places, and with a slight wind buffeting from offshore, it felt wild as I passed the final kilometres. There was no one to greet me as I arrived at my cabin in the middle of nowhere, part of a small camping ground that was mostly empty. I settled in for the night as the place was shrouded in darkness, until it was almost pitch black outside. The sea was somewhere nearby, but it was no longer visible. With a coastal chill in the air, I could only hope for dry weather the next day.

Summit, Sea and Middle-Earth

I found myself with a few spare days ahead of a couple of much anticipated trips. Still in blissful naivety of what was to come in the following months, I boarded a plane to New Zealand’s largest city, Auckland, in early February 2020. Being a Saturday morning, there was a small market on downtown in the city so after dumping my bag at my hostel, I headed to the Britomart and out the far side of it to take a nosy. I’ve visited Auckland many times in the 9 years that I’ve been living in the country. Like Sydney, another place I go back to time and time again, I have my favourite parts that I make a point of going to every time, and in addition I do my best to explore somewhere new or do something different. In the case of Auckland, my favourite thing to do is to head to the viaduct and wander around the waterfront.

 

Normally I take the direct route across the bridge that raises and lowers to let the boats in and out, but I decided to wander around the other side of the Viaduct Basin and meander below the apartment buildings that circle it. I grabbed a light lunch at a cafe before continuing round as the sun intermittently popped through the circulating clouds. At Karanga Plaza is one of my favourite spots to take a photo of the Sky Tower. Like Sydney and the Opera House, I can’t imagine Auckland without the distinctive spire of the Sky Tower. It’s strange to think it was only completed in 1997 when I was already a teenager. As I stood near the steps by the edge of the marina, my attention was suddenly pulled to a movement in the water. To my delight, a large eagle ray was gliding through the surface water. I was the only one to see it, and it was gone before I could get my camera out to get a picture, but I love those moments that are yours and yours alone, a sneaky moment with nature that nobody else spots.

 

Despite being a busy city, Auckland actually offers a lot for nature lovers. Straddling between two harbours, it is nestled into the perimeter of the Hauraki Gulf, a large harbour with a winding coastline made up of both the mainland itself and a series of volcanic islands. I decided to book myself onto a whale and dolphin watching cruise for the afternoon. I’d last done this trip in 2015 where I’d witnessed a Bryde’s whale out near the Coromandel Peninsula. This time around we sailed out into a sunnier Gulf and looked and looked and looked. I’ve been on a lot of whale-watching trips around the World and had had a 100% success rate until a trip from Picton a couple of years prior had failed to spot any humpback whales. As time went on, despite the glorious sunshine and harbour views, we failed to find any marine life. I’d just started to right off the trip as a run of bad luck when we eventually found a pod of common dolphins, my favourite species of dolphin as they chased down fish to the delight of the Australasian gannets that dive-bombed into the ocean around them.

Different dolphin species demonstrate very different behaviour traits. Whereas bottlenose dolphins are much more interactive and acrobatic, travelling in smaller social groups, common dolphins tend to keep their eye on the prize: locating food, and they also usually move in large groups. They’re also very fast to surface, making photography a challenge. I had at times to remind myself to just enjoy the view, as I sometimes get so wrapped up in trying to get a photo that I forget to actually be in the moment that is playing out in front of me. That being said, I got one amazing photo that I love, and otherwise I enjoyed watching the gannets shoot through the sky like arrows as the dolphins herded the fish below the surface. Every now and again I spied a petrel in the mix too. I’ve become a bit of a bird enthusiast since living in New Zealand. What we lack in native mammals here we make up for in birds, and I pay so much more attention to the fauna when I’m out and about.

 

Being summer, there was still a good few hours of daylight left when we returned to the marina. I’d spotted a place that had an interesting looking cocktail at Wynyard so I meandered back across the bridge and settled down at a Chinese restaurant for a delicious meal and a beautiful pink cocktail. The SARS-CoV-2 virus had been making its way around the World by this point, although it hadn’t yet reached our shores. February marks Chinese New Year, a time of year that normally sees an influx of tourists from China. There were still a lot of international tourists, but I noticed not just the reduction in number of Chinese tourists, but also how this particular restaurant was comparatively empty compared to those around it. In fact, everyone else at the restaurant conversed with staff in Mandarin, and I had wondered at the time if there was a bit of racist avoidance of the place. Sadly, even the normally welcoming and laid back country of New Zealand has its racist backbone.

 

I had an early rise the next morning to catch a bus out of the city to somewhere I’d wanted to go to for many years. A couple of hours south of the city is the unassuming town of Matamata. But it is what lies on its outskirts that is the lure to movie fans from around the World. Back in 2001, when I was at university, I, like many others, made a special trip to the cinema to see the first Lord of the Rings movie. If someone told me then I would end up living in New Zealand, I would never have believed them, but yet a decade later I left my home country of Scotland to emigrate there. Now I was on route to Hobbiton, the film set of the Hobbit village that was left intact after the Hobbit movies were filmed and is now a popular tourist attraction. Several of my friends had visited in the past, and I was quietly excited to finally make it there myself.

After a brief respite from breakfast somewhere along the way, we pulled up at the tourist centre to wait for our tour to begin. Whilst I would have loved to have just had free range of the place, you can only visit on a guided tour, meaning booking into a timed shuttle bus that drives you from the main centre, across the farm to the entrance into Hobbiton. There you are taken around a set route by a guide, to curl around past familiar Hobbit holes towards the Green Dragon Inn. The farm itself seems so quintessentially New Zealand, as across the road near the entrance was a load of sheep grazing some crops against a backdrop of rolling hills. As often happens in summer here, there was a bit of a drought going on, making a lot of the landscape quite yellow and brown. And yet, as we reached the film set itself, it was transformed into greenery, as the landscape was clearly being artificially hydrated to maintain the aesthetic.

Firstly, we stopped by the Hobbiton sign before descending through the trees and popping out at a vegetable patch. Looking up the hillside there were Hobbit holes a-plenty, a series of colourful round doorways under turf humps. Whilst not a die-hard fan, I liked the franchise enough to be enchanted by the place as we moved from residence to residence, past small rocking chairs and clothes-lines draped with Hobbit-sized clothing. While almost all of the Hobbit holes are purely a facade, there were a couple that we were able to get right up to or pose by, including one where the door opened into a small vestibule to allow photographs to be taken as if we were going inside. It was a gloriously hot day and I was so happy to be there.

 

Finally, after working our way up the hill at the back, we found ourselves outside Bilbo Baggins’ home, complete with ‘No Admittance, except on party business‘ sign outside. From there, it was a matter of wandering down the other side of the hill to come out at a pretty stone thatched building with a water wheel, and a gorgeous little stone arched bridge that led across to the Green Dragon Inn. Inside, I claimed my cider, part of my admission ticket, and enjoyed it as I wandered around looking at the gorgeous wooden beams and authentic signs on display. Outside the inn, a small lake provided some stunning reflections on such a sunny and still day. I could have sat here for hours just enjoying the weather and the view. The attention to detail everywhere I looked was incredible, and I’d happily come back another time and do the tour all over again.

 

To break up the two hour drive back to the City of Sails, we stopped at Hampton Downs motor park, just a little past half way. I’ve watched the odd bit of motor racing over the years here so recognised some of the cars and names that were displayed across the place. It was a non-race day but the display showroom was full of freshly waxed racing cars, and outside the building there were a few cars racing round the track. I had enough time to watch them do a few laps as well as spot a car doing doughnuts in the skid zone.

 

Back in Auckland, I jumped on the ferry across to Devonport on the opposite side of the harbour to the CBD. It’s only a 10 minute ferry ride, and it was a gorgeous evening as I headed over. I decided to have an early dinner, eating at a Greek restaurant on the main street, before heading up the hill, breathless on a full stomach, to reach the summit of Mount Victoria, one of the 53 volcanic cones that dot the greater city landscape. By now evening, the views over to Rangitoto Island and the city of Auckland were divine. I sat for a long time at the top watching the sun lower and the sky change colour. I made the decision to wait for sunset, and in doing so, the colours in front of me glowed through shades of yellow, and orange before the sun dipped below the cloud line at the horizon. Then the pinks and purples burst out, and the city turned into a sparkling electric light show as the various skyscrapers illuminated against the darkening sky.

 

The purple hung around in the air for quite some time, and below me a constant flow of boat traffic moved in and out of the harbour, they too glowing against the dark water as they zoomed across the surface. Ever aware of the need to get back for the last boat, I eventually had to haul myself away from the view and head back down the hillside to the wharf. As the boat left Devonport, I noticed the Sky Tower was putting on a light show, changing through a series of bright colours, switching from blues and purples, to reds and greens. I wandered through the city streets catching glimpses of the light show as I headed back to my hostel.

 

The next morning after grabbing breakfast at a popular and crammed cafe near to my hostel, I took a wander into Albert Park, passing a myriad of sculptures and finding an alternative viewpoint for the Sky Tower. Down from here, I cut towards Chancery Square where I was amused for a while by a gull that kept challenging its own reflection, thinking it was another gull. Then, because I love it there so much, I headed back to the Viaduct, at first watching the boat life come and go, before parking up on one of the giant wooden loungers on the plaza to just enjoy the sunshine. When at last it was time to head back to the airport, I found myself with a window view for the flight back to Christchurch, flying over Taranaki which looked bizarre without any snow on it. Landing at Christchurch airport, I headed home, excited about my return to the airport the next day for the start of a week long adventure far out in the Pacific Ocean.

A Winter Weekend in Wellington

It’s always a good idea to take a break away from your home city once in a while. Gritting my teeth in earnest for the end of winter last year, I boarded an early morning flight from Christchurch to the country’s capital, Wellington. The last time I’d been there it had been a rather stormy New Years, and sadly the forecast wasn’t looking the best for this weekend either, but still, it was a break away and that was all that mattered. Taking off from Christchurch, the plane was quick to ascend above a thick cloud bank which covered the entire South Island, obscuring any hope of a view out the window. Just as we reached the Cook Strait, a few gaps in the cloud gave a brief peak down to the island slipping out of view. As we descended into Wellington, I was really confused by the sights that appeared below as we lowered back under the clouds. An island appeared and the coastline was unfamiliar and nowhere could I see the usual approach into Wellington. It turned out we’d flown up the south-western coast of the North Island a little before taking a wide arc back to approach over the harbour. It was as grey here as it had been at home but at least the water looked still so that gave hope that the city wasn’t living up to its Windy Wellington moniker that day.

The early arrival meant that we couldn’t check into our hotel yet, so we dumped our bags and went for a wander, first through the nearby streets, and then down to the waterfront. A few murals caught my eye but sadly we were soon joined by a drizzle as I went to explore an old boat that has been completely transformed into a floating mural. We continued towards Te Papa, at first circling around it past the statue of the naked man leaning over the water’s edge, but then briefly heading inside to escape the rain for a bit. The rain mainly remained at drizzle level thankfully, so even though it wasn’t completely dry, we were able to keep walking around the city streets, grabbing some food before taking the train out to Khandallah to visit a relative for a few hours.

 

I was woken in the early hours of the Sunday morning by a loud bang, followed by yelling and a general disturbance outside. We were several floors up, but the sounds from below still drifted upwards and they sounded urgent and distressed. I sleepily rolled out of bed, and pulled back the curtain to be greeted by smoke billowing up from below. I was jolted awake, aware there was a restaurant directly below, and in a panic yelled at my partner to get up. His voice of reason at the lack of smoke alarm sounding and the fire wall that would separate the eatery from the hotel did little to calm me, but there was no suggestion of anyone else in the building moving, and in little time at all, the fire brigade arrived and I was able to watch the light show of sparks that regularly flew upwards as they dampened down the flames. When we eventually got up properly and headed downstairs, we were greeted with the shell of a burnt out car in the hotel’s driveway.

A Sunday market was in full swing at the Te Papa car park, and it was packed full of locals buying their fresh fruit and veg. We were at that point weeks away from an indoor market opening in Christchurch, and I was secretly hoping we’d be getting something as good as this one. Wandering round food markets in any city in any country is always a cultural insight and something that I love to do. It’s a snapshot of local life, local cuisine, and local businesses. Thankfully it was dry as there was no cover whatsoever here, but it was quite windy and the sea in the harbour was showing a good bit of chop. After a while we headed off to spend the afternoon with some relatives near Mount Victoria. By the time we returned to our hotel in the late afternoon the burnt out car was still sitting there looking sorry for itself.

 

Another grey day welcomed us the next morning, and having checked out of our hotel and grabbed some breakfast, we caught the shuttle to Zealandia, the ecosanctuary that nestles behind the city. I’d been once before on the New Years trip, so was happy to go with the suggestion to go back. Despite the lack of sunshine, there were still incredible reflections on the lake at the bottom end of the park, and the nearby hillsides had mist trailing along them. We saw some spotted shag by the waterway, and beyond there some rotund takahe, one of New Zealand’s flightless species of birds. We took the walking track that leads through the forest and up to a dam in the middle of the sanctuary, before skirting round to return on the large loop track. The poor weather meant the bird life was relatively quiet compared to my last visit. Despite how successful the kaka reintroduction here has been, we didn’t see any. Nor did we see any tuatara as it wasn’t warm enough for them to be out basking and I was disappointed to see that the caves where the weta live, had been closed. But we did see the usual forest birds, including the ever inquisitive New Zealand robin who always loves to follow people through the trees.

 

When the rain drove us back to the visitor’s centre, we grabbed lunch before heading back to the city. Again we went into Te Papa to look at one of the exhibits before deciding to walk to the airport along the waterfront as we had plenty of time to spare. I love the walk round Oriental Bay, and on my first visit to Wellington back in 2012 I had continued into Evans Bay round the headland. The long stretch up towards the airport mainly hugged the road so was noisy but once we reached Greta Point, the parks and marina made it much more enjoyable. We had made good time to the airport so wandered among the World of Wearable Art exhibits that were dotted around the terminal. It’s a popular event in the Wellington calendar but never anything that excites me and I looked at the metallic wasp costumes with a raised eyebrow. Before long though, it was time to head south again and home.

Auckland and the Hauraki Gulf

Feeling sick has to have its perks. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself after wasting the whole weekend lying on the couch at home with a virus. Due to a mix of life, travel and mental health lows, keeping up with my blog has been very hit and miss this past year, and as such, I’m a whole year behind in recounting my travels. So I might as well take the opportunity that the virus has provided me, to try and catch up.

I had the luxury of having my birthday off work for several years in a row, so when last March I worked on my birthday for the first time in a while, I decided to try and get a weekend away to make up for it, booking flights to Auckland and a trip to do something I’d wanted to do for some time. My partner had been up to Auckland two months prior for a family event so I was supposed to be heading up on my own, but after he decided later on that he’d join me, we found ourselves at Christchurch airport booked on two separate flights with two different airlines. We effectively raced each other up the country. My flight was scheduled first but was delayed causing a bit of jovial banter between the two of us. In the end though, it didn’t matter. We made it to Auckland well enough and were met at the airport by my partner’s friend who drove us into the city.

It was a scorching sunny day in the City of Sails, and New Zealand’s largest city was living up to its name that weekend as the Volvo Ocean Race, the World’s biggest ocean race was currently taking place in the city. It brought back memories of my time in Cape Town in 2005 when the race had stopped by there, and the vibe around the harbour front was incredible. The race itself was on a break the day we arrived, but there was plenty of action on shore with the teams milling with the sponsors, drinks flowing and exhibits for city goers to have a look at. This event oozes money, and it was very clear to see this walking around, but it was still really interesting, and even without the event running, I just love the views of the Auckland skyline with the sails in front of it.

 

We spent the morning walking around the Viaduct and Wynyard Quarter where we grabbed some food at one of the pop-up venues that had been erected. I had been living with anxiety by this point for nearly 2 years and a message from work put an end to my buzz. For all that social media can do to suggest that people are constantly on a travelling high, I’ve had several trips away tarnished by having to fight through some rather low bouts of mental health. My partner and his friend did their best to buoy me up, and thankfully there was plenty going on to distract me and pull my mind away from my thoughts. Before heading into the city to check into our hotel we managed to squeeze in amongst the crowds to see some boats take off on a race around the harbour. Beyond that we had an evening planned out at Western Springs for the Speedway, an event which I’ve been to a few times with my partner and his friend. It’s a fun night out with a variety of race styles and good family entertainment. Sadly, at the time of writing, Auckland City Council has very recently made the Speedway homeless, and its future in the city is unknown.

I had an early rise the next morning to head off for the trip that was my whole reason for coming up. My partner was to spend the day hanging out with his friend, but I headed down to the ferry terminal to catch the Fullers ferry out into the Hauraki Gulf. One of my favourite things about the region is the myriad of offshore islands that can be visited, offering anything from wineries and swimming to camping and volcanoes. In the first few weeks of my time in New Zealand, I explored the wilderness of Great Barrier Island (to this day, still one of my favourite parts of the country), cycled around the popular Waiheke Island, and explored the volcanic landscape of Rangitoto Island. This time I was headed to Tiritiri Matangi Island, one of the country’s pest-free islands that is open to visitors. Like Ulva Island in Southland that I’d visited the month before, Tiritiri Matangi is promoted as a bird-lovers’ paradise, and being a bit of a closet birder, I was keen to get out there and see what was on offer.

As always, getting out on the water in Auckland is a delight, seeing the city skyline from an alternate viewpoint as well as getting amongst the myriad of boat traffic that plies the busy waterway. Leaving the city behind, we passed Devonport then Rangitoto and headed up to Gulf Harbour where we collected more passengers. From there, it was just a short hop across to the island itself. I’d left the city in sunshine and unfortunately arrived in a bit of a haze. Being a Sunday, the boat was also very full and as we all disembarked, I was keen to get moving and leave the crowds behind, but the rangers stopped us at the wharf to give us a briefing on how to conduct ourselves on the island, taking up a bit too much of the precious time that we had before the sailing home.

 

From the wharf, there were several routes to choose from: a direct road to the lighthouse to the south, a meandering route along the headland to the same destination, or a beach walk to the north. This meant that there was at least a bit of immediate dispersal of the large amount of people that had arrived on the boat, and it was possible to start seeing some wildlife quite early on. I took the Wattle Track, the non-direct route to the lighthouse, and straight away saw some Hihi, or Stitchbirds, and some large Weta, a rather incredible insect that is endemic to New Zealand. Although we’d sailed a good bit away from Downtown Auckland, it was still possible to see the distinctive Sky Tower in the hazy distance, and the volcanic dome of Rangitoto Island stood off to my right.

 

I detoured just before the lighthouse to follow the Ridge Track to the nearest high point to survey my surroundings. I spotted a Sacred Kingfisher on a flax bush, a shy bird that I’ve found difficult to photograph in the past, and I could see across to the dramatic cliff face of Gulf Harbour. The island’s visitor centre is next to the lighthouse, and here was the busiest place I came across on the whole island. I didn’t hang around long, passing it by to skirt behind it to the lighthouse itself. Although it’s not open to the public, it has a commanding presence on the headland and the lawn around it was filled with a mix of people and birds.

 

Round the corner was a house used by staff that had a glorious viewpoint out over the ocean, and from here the east coast track took a northerly route. This track was glorious. Leaving the lighthouse behind, it stuck to the cliff top and skirted round the various coves as it went, losing and gaining altitude as it needed to, and providing a fantastic and near constant view of the rocky coastline and the pounding waves below. There were various viewpoints on route and I caught glimpses of pied shags in the trees and got close ups of the melodic birds that live in the New Zealand bush, such as the tui, one of my favourite birds to hear whilst out hiking. Tui are present in pockets of the South Island, but aren’t common around Christchurch where I live, so it’s always a novelty to see and hear them when I’m somewhere away from home. I’m yet to capture a photograph of them that truly displays their shining feather colour, but I did finally manage to get one that showed off their pretty ‘bow-tie’ feathers.

 

On the headland before Pohutakawa Cove I spotted another Sacred Kingfisher, and beyond here, I took the option to skirt round a couple of lakes that created a small wetland. It was peaceful here with surprisingly little visible life compared to other parts of the island, but it did provide a bit of shade. There may have been some wispy high cloud and haze but it was hot and there hadn’t been much in the way of shelter from the strong sun overhead. Just beyond here the path came to its end at the most northern end of the island, and then it was time to work my way back to the pier via the west coast.

 

As I followed the Ngati Paoa track to the Ridge road, I was in a little bit of a reverie when I was startled by the movement of two grey birds in the bush to my left. It was a fleeting glance that was over before I knew it, but I was excited to realise that what I’d just seen was the North Island Kokako. This bird is really rare to see in the wild, and its South Island variant is thought to be extinct. That being said, suspected sightings in the not-too-distant past have resulted in a $10,000 reward being issued to anyway who can provide verifiable proof of the South Island bird’s existence.

 

I was only on the Ridge road for a brief while before I cut down to the Tiritiri Matangi Pa where I once again had a view across to Gulf Harbour. I took a bush walk round the Totara track where I found a quail with her chicks, and then followed the Kawarau Track through thick bush past the loud North Island Saddleback, and down a steep decline to reach Hobbs beach. The clouds had moved in by now turning the water a cold shade of grey, and here I found a lot of the people that I’d come over with, who were lounging on the beach with their picnics whilst their kids played around the rock pools and the shallows.

 

As I meandered along the Hobbs Beach Track towards the wharf, the other visitors began to gather up their gear and join me on the meander back. I could watch the Fullers ferry draw in from afar as we plodded our way to meet it. There wasn’t an immediate need to board, so as the crowds gradually materialised from the various paths to congregate at the pier, I cut back up the road a little and found myself face to face with pukekos, dust-bathing sparrows, a lone kakariki and more quail. When I returned to the pier, the ferry was well through the process of boarding, and I frog-marched down the pier to head on board. I left the island very satisfied with the chilled-out day that I’d been much in need of, and a multitude of endemic birds spotted.

 

It was just a quick jump across the gap to Gulf Harbour where I disembarked. A large marina here seems to scream about the riches that live around here, but it was a more convenient location than downtown to meet up with a friend that lives away from the city. When we eventually reached her place I was quite jealous of the bird song that serenaded her back garden, and after tea and a catch up, she ran me to Albany where I met up with my partner and his friend for a belated birthday dinner at a much loved Mexican-themed restaurant. By the time we were heading back into the city, the light was dulling and we crossed the Auckland Harbour bridge as the city lights came on.

 

As I like to make the most of my weekends away and as I had been originally coming solo, my return flight wasn’t until late in the evening on the Monday. My partner would have preferred to return earlier, and when we woke to torrential rain that continued for the entire day, I was a little deflated to see that on this occasion, he would have been right. As it was, we hid out in shops and then at the cinema, trying to kill time before grabbing our stuff and heading out to the airport. It was a shame to lose the benefit of the third day, but I returned home satisfied. I always try to do something new whenever I return to Auckland, and bagging Tiritiri Matangi had been just the ticket.

Wildlife of New Zealand

When most people think of New Zealand, they think of grand vistas, towering mountains, reflective lakes and sweeping glaciers. But whilst it wasn’t top of my considerations when I first moved here 5.5 years ago, I’ve discovered that it is a country brimming with wildlife too, many of which is endemic to (can only be found in) New Zealand. The country has long flaunted its clean, green image, and whilst there are certainly those who would argue the truth in that, there is certainly no denying that this country is brimming with countryside, nature areas and untouched wilderness. Coming from the UK where every inch of the place has been conquered, owned and settled on, I still find it astounding that there are parts of New Zealand where people just haven’t and can’t set foot. Vast hectares of the southwest are like a jungle and many of the southern fjords remain accessible only by boat.

With no native land mammals, the native birds grew flightless, and in some cases large. Although the giant Moa and its hunter the giant Haast’s Eagle, have long since been made extinct by the arrival of man, New Zealand still remains an island nation of flightless and ground nesting birds. Unfortunately, the accidental and deliberate introduction of mammals and pest species has left some species extinct, and others critically endangered, but find the right piece of forest and the cacophany of birdlife in the canopy brings goosebumps. It is a bird enthusiast’s paradise here, and nowhere else in the world is there an alpine parrot, who’s cheeky antics are always a joy to watch.

With mile after mile of coastline, the seas around New Zealand are breeming with incredibly diverse marine life from the smallest plankton to some of the largest marine mammals in the world. On land, sea and air, there is always something to see if you know where to look.

MAMMALS

Sperm Whale

These behemoths are most consistently spotted off the coast of Kaikoura in the South Island. The 1200m deep Kaikoura Canyon just 500m off shore leads out into the Hikurangi Trench, a 3000m submarine canyon that skirts north past the North Island. This depth houses a submarine world that includes giant squid, the favoured diet of the 56-ton male sperm whales that reside here. Viewed either by plane where the whole body can be appreciated, or by boat where you can get up close to watch them idle at the surface then dive to the depths.

 

Bryde’s Whale

Similar in size and shape to the Minke whale, the best place to see these shy whales is the Hauraki Gulf near Auckland and the Coromandel Peninsula in the North Island.

 

Southern Right Whale

Typically found off the south-western coast of the South Island, I was lucky to see a mother and calf cruising in a bay off the coast of Christchurch on the east coast.

 

Bottlenose Dolphin

These large dolphins are best spotted in the Hauraki Gulf and around the Bay of Islands in the North Island.

 

Dusky Dolphin

These playful and acrobatic dolphins are smaller than the bottlenose dolphin. Best spotted off the Kaikoura coastline in the South Island.

 

Hector’s Dolphin

Like the almost identical Maui’s Dolphin, these are the smallest and rarest dolphin in the world. They are also unusual in having a rounded dorsal fin unlike other dolphins that have a pointed fin. They are endemic to New Zealand, found nowhere else in the world. The most consistent place to spot them is off the coast of Banks Peninsula to the east of Christchurch, particularly around Akaroa, although they can be seen up and down the eastern coast of the South Island.

 

Long-beaked Common Dolphin

An ocean-dwelling dolphin, this species travel in large pods, making for an incredible experience upon sighting them. The Hauraki Gulf in the North Island is the most consistent place to see them.