The Maiden Voyage
Well it wouldn’t be an adventure without some initial hurdles. Right? Just indulge us and nod your head. Excellent, thank you. Regardless of whether that was a sympathetic nod or a slightly judgmental or disappointed one, Colin graciously accepts it and takes full credit for the delayed departure from Albany Road in Ponsonby, Auckland – a result of a headlight induced drained battery (no cautionary dings or tones on this Mitsubishi L300). The upside to this was that it forced us to purchase a portable jumper and electronics charger battery, something that was on our camping list since Colorado. Sorry, Parker. Should have hit you up before we left.
The added time of running to Repco (think AutoZone or Advanced) was followed by some rush-hour traffic that at least doubled the duration of the journey to our first campsite, the Tawharanui Peninsula. To continue with the silver lining mentality though, arriving a bit later provided the lush green hillsides along the way with the perfect angle of sunlight, a fine complement to the peeks of the Pacific Ocean we received descending down into Omaha Bay.
After executing the phone instructions we received from the DOC (see So What Are We Actually DOING?!) at the time of booking, we were surprised to drive into an impressively expansive camping situation. Rather than the restrictive and designated sites you might expect to find at American campgrounds, the Tawharanui Reserve was simply a sprawling field with unrestricted space to claim as your own. Doing so was no challenge, as there were only three other parties there for the evening. We found a level corner, far enough away from other campers but close enough to the simple toilet block, and settled in to our first quiet, (fairly) isolated evening of the trip.
Enjoying a fine gourmet meal of hearty vegetable soup and exquisite grilled cheese sandwiches (thanks to the traffic we missed the seating for the grilled lamb with shiraz rosé), we took in the fading sunlight and the collection of low-flying blackbirds with brightly colored plumage that it brought with it. Not to be outdone, the cacophony of bullfrogs carried on throughout the night, collectively rumbling to the extent that one could mistake their ‘harmony’ for a distant motocross race. Mating season perhaps. Nonetheless, the commotion wasn’t disruptive enough to keep us from slipping soundly into a sleeping-bag slumber and getting enough rest to enjoy the Matakana Market the next morning. Night 1: Success!