Nick's flight home from Auckland was the next day so the motorbikers headed to New Zealand's largest city for a night on the town before sending him off. We checked into the Surf and Ski Hostel which is right around the corner from the famous Sky Tower. We parked the motorbikes in a free garage down the block and then went out to get pizza before bar hopping around. We sang some terrible karaoke at one establishment and went to a few districts before calling it a night.
Nick had to leave early for his flight so I was surprised when he woke me up wearing all his gear. "Dude, someone broke into the bikes." I jolted awake thinking he said someone stole them. I hastily got dressed and walked down to see the damage. We took our backpacks and electronics into the hostel but someone had smashed open the panniers and stole some tools, my passport, my car keys, and the biggest blow, the hard drive with all of our footage from the South island. I cursed and threw some camping dishes and started freaking out. Nick had to leave to catch his flight and I hopelessly wandered around, checking dumpsters and trashcans in case the thief changed his mind and dumped some items. I woke Sam up and we went to the library to print some flyers and file a police report but nothing was ever solved. I remained bitter but we had a few days until we returned home so we packed up and left Auckland. Five years later I still hate Auckland. We rode to the Coromandel Peninsula which had lots of turns hugging the waters edge and then found a short hike to tackle. The trailhead had signs saying there were abandoned mine shafts and Kiwi birds in the area and we had yet to see one so we took off down the trail to see if any were out and about.
Cruising the Coromandel.
No kiwis or mine shafts were found.
A gorgeous view was found.
After a fruitless search for the birds and mine shafts, we returned to the trailhead and met a group of roadtrippers who just found a geocache. We got to chatting and learned that they were heading to a friend's parent's place nearby and invited us to join. Then they added the caveat that we would have to camp in the yard, ha! Perfect. The group was traveling with a massive 10-person tent that we helped them set up after we got ours pitched lightning fast since we've had lots of practice over the past couple weeks. The next morning Sam and I joined the parents for breakfast and I learned the dad, Malcolm, owned a plumbing fixture manufacturing business called Aquatica and he had a lot of interesting stories about it. Such as one supplier that is based in China was doing excellent work and he wanted to reward the employees with a bonus. The factory refused but after much debate, they finally allowed him to buy each employee a single can of soda. Malcolm also let me print out some forms to get a temporary passport from the US Embassy in Auckland so I could get home.
Malcolm’s house.
When everyone woke up we got packed to go hike to the Cathedral Cove and chill on the beach all day. It was an absolutely gorgeous trail and I loved that it was a few miles from the road so the place rarely got crowded. We posted up on the far side of the cave and then swam around some nearby rocks that provided excellent jumping platforms. We also climbed some rocks, made a fire, tossed the rugby ball around, and had some beers until the sun began to set and we needed to hike back home.
Hiking down the trail.
CATHEDRAL COVE!
Te Horo Rock.
I had an absolute blast playing at Cathedral Cove and it was a great escape for my mind to stop dwelling on the robbery. We had spent a lot of time talking over ideas of how to edit the off-roading footage and great songs to add to the background…but poof. Gone. All of it. We chilled in Malcom’s hot tub that night and it was a great end to my New Zealand adventure. The rest of my time would be winding down to get to Auckland, sell my motorbike, pack, and make arrangements to return home. The next morning I took off riding solo back to the big city and got my passport sorted out before meeting Brian and Anne for the final night in New Zealand. Sam was staying in Coromandel to hang out with our new friends and go spend the day at Hot Water Beach. I wish I could have joined. This beach is yet another oddity of NZ where you can just dig a hole in the sand then hot water will seep inside to fill up your private hot tub. Back in Auckland we explored One Tree Hill, a peak in the middle of the city from which you can see both of Auckland’s bays. A farmer named Sir John Logan Campbell owned the land and resisted continually growing pressure from the government to buy it to turn it into a park. Towards the end of his life he caved under one stipulation: A giant obelisk is to stand on the summit of the park, as a tribute to the Maori, and his grave shall be at the bottom of it. How awesome is that!!! Afterwards I treated Brian and Anne to dinner since I was crashing on their hotel floor that night and we called it in early since 30 hours of traveling began tomorrow.
Maori Memorial atop One Tree Hill.
Our lack of working phones yet again forced Sam and I to make a plan in advance which was to meet at the McDonald’s at the gate a couple hours before our flight. I met my motorcycle buyer at the airport which was the easiest transaction ever. He had USD cash in an envelope, we again used a computer terminal to change the title, and I handed over the keys. No test drive. No looking at the bike. I had kept him updated with all of my crashes and the robbery which left the panniers in poor condition so his buying price dropped steadily throughout the trip. Sam never showed up to our rendezvous. I had a bunch of his tools and camp cookwear since they resided in Frankenbike’s panniers and I now had to make all this extra gear fit into my luggage. It was a struggle. I splurged $75 to get a front row seat with the extra legroom because a 13 hour flight is well long enough to make it worth it. Before taxiing off, an old Kiwi flight attendant popped his head in between the curtains and said
“Goodday mates! you have the best seats in the house, do you know why?”
“Yeah, look at this legroom!” I replied.
“Close. But no. The fancy first class wine is right here on my side of the curtain but I’ll see to it that your cup is never empty of the good stuff!”
He was true to his word and I slept very well for the last half of the flight. After some more connecting flights and layovers I finally arrived back at BWI, my homeland. It felt very awkward to be in a car again as well as driving on the “right” side of the road. My mind was racing and wandering on the short drive home and my journal summed up those last moments pretty well:
I pulled into my parking pad in complete disbelief that the adventure has come to an end. 37 days of riding the countryside of the most beautiful and pure country on the planet. Riding the craziest terrain. Crashing my bike a ridiculous TEN times but escaping with no lasting injuries. Meeting so many kind Kiwis and learning how to live with little possessions, being a complete nomad - waking up without the slightest idea of where you’ll be sleeping that night.
When I walked into the house, my good friends Savillo and Karrot were imbibing and handed me a beer while telling me I had some catching up to do. My life, just as I left it. Other things resumed; back to working at my cubicle job, partying on the weekends, seeing friends, etc. For the most part everything fell back into place but I knew the trip had changed me. I was NOT going to let this be my one big adventure in life before settling down. The world is too massive and too amazing to stay in your safe and comfortable bubble. Get out there. Go out and find your next adventure!!!