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Monday, January 25, 2010

Abida sings Kabir

Abida Praveen sings the beautiful poetry of Kabir in her fabulous voice in the album 'Abida sings Kabir' with introduction by Gulzar in his magnetic voice.

Souun toh sapne miloon


Bhala hua meri matki toot re


Saahib mera ek hai


The following are from the album 'Kabir by Abida'

Introduction and Mann Laago (Part 1)

Mann Laago (Part 2)

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

My skydive at Lake Taupo

Finally, I found the time to upload my skydive video onto YouTube :)))

Click here to watch the video

I loved it so much that I've decided to jump at every turn of the decade, my life decade that is. So the next jump will be when I turn 50. :)))

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Vivekananda says ......

There is something behind this world of senses, this world of eternal eating and drinking and talking nonsense, this world of false shadows and selfishness. There is something beyond all books, beyond all creeds, beyond the vanities of the world--and that something is the realization of God within yourself.

- Swami Vivekananda

Talk given at Unity Hall, Hartford (Connecticut), USA, on March 8, 1895

Monday, January 11, 2010

An insight into stillness

When you are in stillness, you’ll observe that the mind is ever ready to launch into turbulence, to analyse, opine, judge, conclude, segregate, fear, hate etc. There is nothing wrong with this. This is the nature of the mind. The mistake we make as divine beings is to forget who we are and to identify with this turbulence mistaking it to be the real thing.

However, if you remain in stillness, it is possible to watch this mental activity without identifying with it. Then a tremendous compassion opens up and we accept the mind with its incessant activity and the body with its needs. Then when we extend this to everyone else we realise that just as in ourselves, the mind is creating turbulence in everyone else and then we feel the same compassion and acceptance towards all.

Saturday, January 09, 2010

Waking from the dream

We are just a dream in the consciousness of the Great Spirit. When the Spirit wants to manifest, we are born. From then on until we die we acquire things, a personality, opinions, concepts, knowledge, a sense of ‘I’ as being separate (ego), possessions which we think belong to us. All of which arises in the mind. But we are so immersed in the dream, everything has a sense of solidity, of reality, but which, however, is not the real thing. All this gets wiped out when the form dies, when the spirit consciousness departs from the manifested form.

In short, we are all dreamers, in a dream world we have dreamt up.

But who is doing the dreaming? That who we really are. Divinity. But whilst we are caught up in the dream we cannot realise that. We need to step back from the dream and realise the deceptiveness of it. But we cannot do that with the mind because the mind is where the dream is taking place. Happiness and misery, loss and gain, success and failure etc are all happening in the dream. In order to awaken, the mystics say, we must drop the mind and in the space that opens up, truth is revealed.

Mind you, all of the above are approximations because words are approximations and cannot adequately convey anything approaching truth. I guess we have to find out for ourselves. In silence.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Day 11 - National Park to Wellington

Well, my holiday has almost come to an end. When I wake up I lie in bed thinking about the past 10 days and how much fun it has been. So many firsts in just one trip, that thought itself is enough to make me feel alive and enthusiastic :) I guess the feeling comes from the novelty of it all, going to places you’ve never been to, doing things you’ve always wanted to do, each moment is new and a surprise, your senses are alert to all the new experiences. When we come back to our normal routine life, that sense of novelty is lost, things are routine, habit reigns and we feel ennui. Therefore, holidays are good for us, they recharge our batteries, clearing our minds of junk and injecting fresh thought.

A 320 kms drive lies ahead of me and I decide to take it slowly. I want to savour these last hours on the road, these last moments of my wonderful trip. After I leave the desert like landscape of the environs around Mt.Ruapehu, the scenery becomes green again, and as I turn around corners I suddenly glimpse the white-streaked slopes of Mt. Ruapehu rising in the distance. I decide to stop next to a meadow to take some pictures and when I get out of the car I realise it’s one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve seen so far. The whole scene is lit up with light. The sunlight lies sparkling on the grass, the rounded undulating mounds are speckled with yellow wild flowers nodding merrily in the breeze. Sheep graze placidly behind the fences and wild grass wave their bushy heads at the wind. In the far distance, a dark green swathe of pine trees grow tall and above it all Mt. Ruapehu rises, imposing and silent. After I’ve taken my fill of pictures, I just stand there and drink in the scene allowing the serenity to settle into my bones.


I stop wherever I can, at Waioru, at the Rations café, for a cup of tea and a slice of lemon cake. Waioru has an army outpost, hence maybe the café is called Rations Cafe. There is an army tank outside and little boys are having a great time climbing onto it and pretending to be soldiers. With their dads keeping a watchful eye. A nice father-son bonding moment. I watch the kiddos for a while, it’s very interesting watching kid dynamics at play. How the emerging personalities develop and how they interact. Then it’s time to take to the road again.

After the hills and valleys and winding roads, I’m now driving in flat country. The horizon disappears in a haze on all sides and the road lies straight and flat. Hence this area is called the Horizons Region. I am tempted to take a detour to Whanganui town, where the Wanganui river meets with the sea. Plying on the river is the popular paddle-boat steamer Waimarie which was established in 1900 and is the last remaining boat of a fleet that used to ply the river carrying stuff up and down back in the old days. This river cruise is one of the main attractions for this area. But I decide to give it a miss and carry on straight ahead.

Driving solo on these roads gives me plenty of opportunity to ponder and contemplate. There have been so many firsts on this incredible journey it amazes me to think that what started as a whim turned out into this fantastic experience. I realise it’s never too late to do stuff. Age is just a barrier in the mind, in fact all barriers are in the mind. The spirit is free and willing. Always. After my sky-dive, I learnt that the oldest person to sky-dive was 91 and the youngest was 5. What must have the 91-year old been thinking? That why not do it, he’s got one foot in the grave anyway? But don’t we all have a foot in the grave? Do we know our expiry date? What then prevents us from living life to the fullest?

I realise that all our actions are motivated by just two things. Either Love or Fear. We do things out of love or out of fear. Even a simple, mundane act as brushing our teeth even though done out of habit is being done because we love our body and don’t want out teeth to rot and fall off. Look closely at every one of your actions and you’ll find that either one of these is the main motivator. So why not do everything with love, after all that is the highest energy vibration in the universe. Why do anything out of fear, why not banish fear entirely from our lives, and live as if everything is possible. Because, everything IS possible.

I also think of all the people who helped me during this trip, most of them total strangers. I think if we approach people with innocence and trust, most of the time you get trust and kindness in return. But growing up in a tough city like Bombay, I was forced to learn to watch my back and to distrust people. Obviously, mistrust comes from fear and trust from love. It takes a whole heap of courage to keep trusting even after you’ve been let down.

I also learnt that having faith in the universe works. After all, if the Universe can hurtle the planets around and create the galaxies, it can be trusted to make a few dolphins appear near a boat or to bring up good weather for driving. You only have to ask and trust. And hey and presto, it happens.

I stop next at Levin, where there is a rest area. A playground sits in a largish area and sometimes a toy train runs through it. There is also a dining area with a microwave oven and hot water for tea/coffee. I heat the food I’m carrying, take it outside and eat while watching the kids playing. The weather has been pleasant, warm with a nice breeze blowing.

Wellington is not too far now and shortly I reach the Kapiti coast, just north of Wellington. Kapiti has a few beaches along the coast and is a popular weekend destination for Wellingtonians. There is a little stretch where the road is close to the sea and inclines downwards. So you get a good view of the beach from a height and then after a while, you’re driving alongside the coast, the breakers smashing against the rocks.

And after a short while I’m home after a memorable vacation. The odometer says the car travelled 2820 kms. Gosh! That sounds huge! Maybe I even stretched the car’s limits. :) In so many ways it was awesome, fulfilling and a journey of self-discovery. I feel as if I am cradled in the safe, loving hands of the Universe. In the last 11 days I’ve learnt so much, grown so much, enjoyed so much, for which all I feel an immense gratitude towards the Universe.

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

Day 10 - Waitomo to National Park

I wake up to the dawn chorus. In the perfect silence the birdsong rises loud and clear. I cannot lie in bed today because the lodge is a bed and breakfast place and Janet had informed me that breakfast is from 7.45 to 8.45. So I make myself a cup of tea and go outside. Being summer, the sun has risen early and sunlight is swathed over everything, the hills, the rooftops, the road. Trees sparkle and the cows in the hills are silhouetted perfectly in the bright light. One cow says ‘mooo...’ and another replies ‘mooooo...’ I’m sure they understand each other even though I do not. Somewhere close at hand a sheep goes ‘baaah, baaaaah’. My city-dweller heart goes rapt with delight. I feel rested but alive. This is how one should begin one’s day, I think, at peace and living every minute keenly, deeply. I wonder how to keep this aliveness alive always. It could be that living among nature brings down our barriers, our masks, and connects us with the source that lies within all.

The other guests are having breakfast already and Janet and Colin go from table to table chatting. They are such a nice couple, no airs, very helpful and friendly. I compliment Colin for his cookies that he has left in the room. And Janet helps me to find things-to-do at the National Park, which is my next stopover. On my way out I discover that they have a little lily pond with orange fishes in it and around this a veggie garden. Broccoli, brussels sprouts, onions, berries, growing cheerily in the sun, looking healthy and delicious :)


Then I start a 2 hour drive to the National Park. On the way I stop at a small town for a break and see a restaurant that has been built into a railway carriage. I wonder how it would be inside. I should have gone inside and had a look.


As I get closer Mt.Raupehu rises majestically in the distance. This is the highest peak in the North Island and in winter is covered in snow. There is a twin peak called and both mountains are popular ski-fields. After I check in at the YHA hostel I enquire about the activities I can do. This is the only place where I hadn’t thought beforehand about what to do, so I’m a bit at a loose end. Ann, the lady at the counter suggests the I take the ski-lifts up to almost the top because it’s too late to start climbing. Little does she know that I have absolutely no intention to climb :)

So I have lunch and drive the 9 kms to the foothills of the mountain, to take the ski-lifts. The ski-lifts are mainly used during the skiing season to take skiers up to the top so that they can come skiing down the icy slopes. Non-skiers like me, however, go up and come down in the ski-lifts itself :) Most of the snow on Mt. Raupehu has melted away in the summer and only small streaks still cling to the top reaches of the mountain. The mountain looks so much different without the snow. During winter it is a white fairyland, snow on everything including the housetops and bushes and even the foothills and it all looks like a picture postcard. Now, it is all rocks and gravel, in various shades of brown and grey. This transformation is amazing and hard to take in at first. Even the houses look drab and dark.


I take the ski-lift which is really an open chair suspended on a metal rope attached to the supporting ropes being rotated by a pulley system. As it takes off and my feet lose their contact with the ground, I must admit that I feel little bouts of fright. But once you get used to being suspended in mid-air by a flimsy looking rope it starts to become fun. As I climb higher the air gets colder and Mt.Raupehu gets closer. Somewhere along the way a waterfall hangs, singing spritely among the silent rocks, splashing down all the melted ice.


I reach the end of the lift system and get off. Getting off is tricky because the lift doesn’t actually stop, just slows down, so you have to hop off and move to the side else, it’ll come and hit you. There are only a few people around as most are either climbing up or down using their muscle power. My muscles are still complaining after yesterday’s cave adventure so I feel no temptation to join them. :) But I climb a few rocks to where the snow line begins. The snow lies in patches against the rock face and when I take up a handful I find they are actually tiny ice crystals. They feels crunchy and start melting due to the warmth of my hand and forms a ball when I press them together. Nice feeling! I then settle down on a rock and just gaze at the half-snowy landscape.

The silence of the mountains are of a different quality. Since there are not much living things around, the silence actually emanates from the rocks, the snow and hangs in the air. It is not a pulsating kind of silence but a deep brooding one. I breathe it in, into my inner spaces. It is no wonder that the Maori consider Mt.Raupehu to be sacred, there is a sacredness in the inscrutable rocky face, the impenetrability, the awesomeness of its size that makes man seem so fragile and so puny.

The rock formation where I’m sitting is crater like with a huge bowl like depression in the mountain surface and people have make tracks for slides, for sliding down on their backsides. Shortly after, a family arrives who discovers these and proceed to whoopee down the tracks on their bottoms. It seems like fun but I feel in the least inclined to get my bottom cold and by pants wet. So I watch as more and more people arrive and take to the slides. It is interesting watching people’s reactions during this their little adventure. The young enjoy it thoroughly, taking the bumps and the excitement in their stride, the older ones look a bit self-conscious and a little apprehensive and do not do as many repeats as the young ones.

Having lost the silence in the air and growing tired of the human activity I take the ski-lifts back down. The view while coming down in panoramic. The plains are spread out on all sides parts of it simmering green in the distance. For the main part, however, it is brown, especially the foothills and the desert around the mountains. The desert here is not made of sand but of dwarf bushes and dry grass which looks sparse but still has a strange stark beauty to it.

Back at my room which is on the first floor I find on looking out of the window, a couple of young people sunbathing on the grass. They have put up a little tent on the grass and I wonder if they are going to spend the night in it. I am amazed at the Europeans. They leave behind comfortable homes, with cosy beds and heating and spend days living in tents with hardly any basic amenities, while most of the people in the Third World are trying to acquire just the conditions these folks have left behind. Hmmmmm....

When I look out of the other window I see much to my surprise Mt.Raupehu looking serene far in the distance. I had not realised that I had such a good view of the mountain from my window. If only all surprises in life are pleasant ones like this :)))


Bath and dinner over, I’m ready to rest for the day. This has been a quiet day spent in much reflection and contemplation.

Monday, January 04, 2010

Day 9 - Auckland to Waitomo

When I wake up in the morning I find it’s raining which is actually quite a pleasant change from the hot weather we’ve been having. B’s house is in a very pretty place, on a large ground filled with fruit and other trees. Birds are atwitter among the leaves and a pleasant breeze blows through the house. She kindly packs food for me for lunch and dinner and assures me that she had a good time and then we bid each other farewell.

The distance to Waitomo caves is 200 kms and the GPS informs me that it’s going to take 2.5 hours. Hmmmm..... The journey is much more pleasant today because of the rain and the drop in temperature. Also, as I move southwards, the landscape gets lovelier. Brown gives way to green as the hills and fields are swathed in lovely, delectable shades of green. Up north, it was more cattle country, but now sheep start appearing in the meadows as white furry bundles head down in the grass grazing. It’s hard at times to keep my eyes away from the landscape and on the road. For once I wish someone else was driving and I was in the passenger seat feasting my eyes on the panorama spread out on both sides. I wonder what I’m doing in a metal box on wheels, burning up precious fossil fuel and whizzing by at breakneck speed. A spectacle like this deserves to savoured at a slower pace, maybe on horseback or in a horse carriage, windows open, hair blowing in the wind and spirit bounding among the trees and the hills.


After four days of company, I’m alone once again. Even though the company was nice to have, I must admit that I like the solitude. I can now actually hear myself think and even drop my thoughts and be in silence. It is usually hard to stay connected with my inner self when the attention is on the world and other surface things. So I just enjoy my own company. Sometimes I talk to the car, tell her what a great job she’s been doing, taking me across the countryside without complaint. I send out waves of love and gratitude. Did you know that all energy has consciousness?

I reach Waitomo Caves and check into the lodge. It is built into a hillside and is therefore at various levels. I find that the room I’ve been alloted is at the very top level and has a wonderful view of the surroundings. Little hillocks undulate in the distance and pine forests rise dark and thick on some of them. Sheep dot the sides of the hills and among the trees birds call and crickets sing. The lodge comprises little cottages and the owners Colin and Janet stay in the main house at the bottom level. Around each structure flowers and bushes grow in abundance. On the verandah outside the house on a roof trellis, two grape vines have spread their branches creating a green canopy and unripe grapes hang down in perfect bunches. It is so heartwarming to see foliage growing in such profusion.


Waitomo is famous for its cave system some of which contain stalagmites and stalactites and also glowworms which when viewed in the dark makes for a surreal experience. The word Waitomo comes from the Maori for wai meaning water and tomo meaning sinkhole, so it can be translated as ‘water passing through a hole’. I’ve been here before and seen the glowworms and all that but this time I want to try out black water rafting :)

So, after a quick lunch I head off to the Black Water Rafting company’s meeting point. Because we’re doing a wet exploration through the caves, we’re given wet suits to don. In the ladies changing room while we’re putting on our gear, I hear someone say ‘What am I doing here?’ again and again. :) The wet suits are, well, wet. And clingy. And stick to you like second skin. I guess it helps to keep the body heat in.

Then we all get into a van and are taken to the side of a small stream where we are asked to choose tubes that our bottoms will fit into. Tubes are circular air-filled donuts which will be used to sit upon and float once we are in the water. We are also given helmets with lights on them.

Then we do a trial run of jumping off a waterfall. We have to attach the tubes to our bottoms and jump into the water facing backwards so as to land in the water on the tube and bottom down and head up :) The trial run seems easy even though it is a bit of a shock to the system to land suddenly in the cold water, sink a little and gulp a lot of water. Then we are taken to the mouth of the cave. This cave is called the Ruakuri Cave meaning ‘cave of dogs’ because according to Maori legend, some young hunters who were returning from bird catching were suddenly attacked by wild dogs. In order to escape, they threw the dead birds at the dogs and ran away. The chief not too happy to be deprived of food sent them back to get the dogs. They, with the help of some more tribesmen came back, found the dogs in this cave, captured them, took them back, killed and ate them. In the process, also discovered this cave.

Back in the present day, for us, a different kind of adventure begins :)

The cave system here is made up of tunnels with uneven stone floors and limestone walls and stalactite ceilings. It not dry but has a constant flow of water flowing through it sometimes at a rapid pace and occasionally the floor dips so that the water then gushes over the fall. As we enter the cave it gets dark, so we switch on the light on our helmets. Then clutching our tubes we pick our way gingerly over the rocks, trying to avoid the limestone jutting out or the stalactites hanging too low. When the ceiling is too low, we get on our tubes, lie back flat and float through the gap. We climb into holes and through holes, lose our balance, grab the walls, scrape our skin. Over the waterfalls, we attach to tube to backsides, stick our bottoms into it and jump. Yippee!!! And land in a splash, gulping water and getting soaking wet.

I must say that it is interesting to note and very heartening to find that in situations like these total strangers become very helpful. For helping hands reach out whenever someone is in need of help and everyone looks out for the other. It must be the presence of danger that kindles a kinship with people you’ve never met before, who do not even speak the same language as you and whom you may never see again.

All throughout the cave system glowworms are to be found. Actually, only the first half of the word ‘glowworm’ is true because even though it glows it is not a worm, it an insect called the fungus gnat. And it’s not the insect that is glowing, it’s its shit. So what we’re looking at is glowing shit. The gnats themselves are in the larvae stage and they attach themselves to the roofs of these caves, excrete luminous stuff and thin, sticky lines that hang down. Flying insects that get into the caves, are attracted to the glow and when they come near, get trapped by the hanging lines. The glowworms pull them in and make a meal of them. They hang around like this for 9 months after which they metamorphose into adults. The adult gnats, however do not have mouths, so they cannot eat, so they just mate furiously for 3-4 days, after which the male flies off and dies. The female, then goes around laying around 120 eggs, after which she also dies. Out of all those eggs around 40 survive. The survivors proceed to eat the unsuccessful ones, thereby producing shit and then the cycle is repeated. All very fascinating.

After all that wading through ankle-deep, knee-deep water and jumping off waterfalls, we come to the most mind-blowing part of the adventure. We are asked to get into the eel formation which involves us getting into single line, putting your legs on the side of the tube of the person in front of you and grabbing the feet of the person behind you whose legs are on your side. Thereby, we form a tight line. Then we switch off our lights. And then the guide in front slowly pulls us along. I just lie on my back, my bottom in the water, looking up, and in the darkness, the roof above is lit up with the glow of thousands of glowworms. It’s like as if the starry sky has come down and is almost within reach. It is almost totally silent except for the occasional splash of water and I just lie there gliding slowly through the water, in the near total darkness, under the soft light of the glowworms. It is elemental. It is exhilarating. It is surreal. All the wading, and jumping, and scraping and falling out of tubes and gulping water suddenly becomes worthwhile.

After that wonderful experience, we come out of the eel formation, climb some more, wade some more and then come to the real test. Our guide tells us to switch off our lights and glide thorough the pitch dark all by ourselves. And off we go, bumping into each other, the walls and sometimes the floor, trying not to get lost or get left behind. Finally, light is seen at the end of the dark tunnel and we all climb out of the cave into daylight. I feel stiff and exhausted. My body sends messages like “I’m not young anymore”, “Stop torturing me”. Which I conveniently ignore. Hehehehe :)))

Back at the premise, I climb out of the wet suit and get into the hot shower. Aaaahhhhh!!!!! What a great feeling! Hot water against cold skin! To get warm again after more than an hour in a cold, wet cave system wearing a wet suit. Then we all go and have a free complimentary soup and bagel. My body is partially pacified :))) That was such a great adventure. Even though I must admit that there were times when I wondered, ‘Why am I doing this?” “What am I doing in this wet suit, jumping off waterfalls?” Pushing boundaries, of course :)))

Back at the lodge, after dinner, I pick up a conversation with Colin, the owner. Turns out this is his retirement business. He is a former high school teacher. I compliment him about the profusion of plants and flowers and his success at grape-growing. He says things grow because they can’t help growing, because the climate is such, it is conducive to growth. I enquire about a place close by where there are a few lions and you get to pet the lion cub when it’s just a few weeks old or until it grows it’s fangs. He says wild animals should not be allowed too close contact with humans, else they lose their wildness and forget their real nature. (I would say the same about myself :))) Look at dogs, he says pointing to his dog, they are pack animals, they follow a hierarchy, alpha male and alpha female, then others down the pecking order. Our dog waits for us to finish dinner before she has hers, even though we keep her dinner out first because she knows that she is further down the hierarchy. Therefore humans should never allow dogs to sleep with them, then the dogs will think they are above and will rebel when they are controlled. Dogs are like children, they like structure, Cats, on the contrary are independent and solitary and don’t care for hierarchy or structure. Quite interesting!



I come back to the room and sit and gaze at the landscape outside. The setting sun has lit up the grass and the light is streaming through the leaves. The dusk chorus is actively twittering in the trees. Thus, another memorable day has come to an end.

Sunday, January 03, 2010

Day 8 - Kaitaia to Auckland

Morning finds me still in bed reluctant to get up simply because I’m still feeling tired but we have to checkout at 10 and there is another long drive ahead. A hot cup of tea and a cold shower revives me somewhat. Unfortunately, the motel has not kitchenette, so we cannot make any breakfast so after checking out I inquire about the breakfast facilities at the hotel only to be told that it was over at 9. Darn! However driving through town I find a cafe and having refueled myself to the full take to the road again :)


The weather is perfect for a long drive. It rains occasionally which helps to keep the heat down and the cloud cover reduces the harshness of the sunshine. The landscape is as usual beautiful. Rolling hills, cattle grazing in paddocks, pine trees glowing dark on the hills and occasionally we go through forests where trees, ferns and other vegetation grow thick and dense. Little one-lane bridges straddle streams and sometimes rivers and tiny ponds flash by. The colour as we drive southwards changes from brown to green. Fields of corn appear lush among the grassland and the hills as we drive further south get greener and greener. Through it all, A R Rehman and R D Burman compositions provide sing-along company.




B is an inveterate clock-watches. She checks the time meybe every 10 mins and I ask her if she has a train to catch :) She says she spent a lifetime working by the clock so now it has become a habit. But you are retired now, you can throw away your watch, at least take it off and put it in your handbag, I suggest, and enjoy the moment. She measures the distance covered and remaining and calculates the time that will be taken to reach our destination. I sigh in resignation. Maybe she needs to keep her mind busy.

Why this focus on the destination, I wonder. Destinations are like signposts, when we reach one, another one has taken its place. They keep moving and shifting through life and sometimes we focus so much on them that we forget to enjoy the journey. The final destination for the body is the grave, the mind gets lost in oblivion but the spirit knows no signposts nor time, it forever dwells in the present.



Even though the drive is long and sometimes arduous, I find myself enjoying it. Driving is like meditation sometimes, The mind goes into cruise control, the hands steer and the foot works the levers seemingly without any direction from the mind. Surely, there must be some deeper intelligence driving this whole mind-body thing that we become aware of at times like these.






We arrive at Auckland finally a lot later then B had calculated, mainly because of traffic. I tease her about that. So I’m spending the night at her place. No places to visit today, just the inner spaces of myself.

Day 7 - Paihia to Kaitaia

I am drop-dead tired. If my narrative meanders or stops altogether then you can assume I’ve fallen asleep on the keyboard. But let me start at the beginning :)

It is a beautiful morning in Paihia. I sit with my cup of tea in the morning and just look out of the window. I’m so much in love with this little town, with its lively air, its beaches, its sparkling blue waters, its bays that I’m reluctant to leave. So is B. But leave we must. So we pack our things and bid a sad farewell, looking out at the bay for one last time.

We are headed for Waitangi. This is a historic place for this is where the Treaty of Waitangi was signed between the Maori and the British, pledging to put an end to the fighting and to co-habit in peace. There is a memorial structure built to commemorate this historical occasion inside there are guided walks and tours and maybe a pictorial history of the whole thing, but we decide to give the tour a miss and carry on ahead.



We stop at the Haruru Falls next. This is a little waterfall that is formed when the Waitangi river falls over a drop of few hundred feet. It is a nice picturesque little place and the sound of the water falling is very soothing with the spray rising from the water and showering you with tiny droplets. I linger on wanting to just sit by the falls and watch it all day. There surely is something magical about the sound of falling water. Once again I cast one last look at the falls and go on ahead.




After that it’s one long haul up State Highway 10 northwards towards Kaitaia. While driving our GPS lady has other ideas. She repeated asks that I ‘turn around’. Against my better judgement and fearing that I’ve missed a turn I turn around only to find myself being led into somebody’s backyard. I quickly beat a hasty retreat, turn off the GPS and from them on just follow the signs till we reach Kaitaia. All the going round in circles has made us late and hot and tired and it’s 1.15 when we finally find our motel when we had been expecting to reach by 11.30 or noon by the latest.

The hotel manager informs us that Cape Reinga is almost a 2 hour drive, so we have a quick lunch, fill up the petrol tank and head off again. Cape Reinga is the northern tip of NZ and other than that geographical fact it also has a lot of significance for the Maori. But before we get to that, there’s the Ninety Mile beach to explore.

It is the longest beach in NZ and the name is a misnomer because it’s actually on 60 miles long. It stretches along the west coast from just west of Kaitaia and ends just south of Cape Reinga, running northwest for most of its length. Because it’s such a long stretch of beach and also because it is almost flat, people sometimes drive their vehicles over it. So that’s what we do next. Head towards the beach and enter it at a place called Wapapkauri. The sand here is compact and tightly packed and there’s a ramp that goes down to the beach so the car goes over the beach quite smoothly. We park and gaze out at the long stretch of beach and the surf that comes over the sand in lovely patterns. Because the ground is flat, the waves are gentle and form pretty little crests before spreading their foam out on the sands. I stand and gaze at this breathtaking beauty for a long time, loathe this leave this place as well :)))



From there the drive to Cape Reinga is 110 km. I do it in one stretch because for some reason once I start driving I don’t like to stop until I’ve reached the destination. So up and down hills we go, around curved bends and through tiny villages. The landscape in these parts is mostly brown. It appears as though the rain god is not so active here and I feel sorry for the sheep and cattle eating the brown, dried-up grass. But I guess, just like us, animals adapt to conditions. The heat beats down relentlessly and I can feel by hands on the steering wheel smarting under the sun. Finally after about an hour and half we reach the Cape Reinga landing point.



From here it is a short walk to the lighthouse and land’s end. All along the walk there are wooden plaques that tell the story of Cape Reinga and why it is so significant for the Maori. They consider this to a site worth veneration and so it is requested of tourists that they do not consume food and drink on the site. The story that unfolds is that Kupe was the seafaring captain who first arrived in NZ with his men in their weka (boat) from Hawaika (Polynesia). According to Maori legend this is the departing place of spirits on their journey to the homeland, Hawaiki. Legend tells of a spirit trail along 90 Mile Beach, starting at the southern end of the beach, the departing spirit waits for an outgoing tide before journeying back to Hawaiki.
There is a single tree growing at the tip and it is beleived that the spirits had to descend the steps formed by the roots of the tree and wash in the two streams that flowed there before they could fly off.

The headland of Cape Reinga (Te Rerenga Wairua) rises steeply to 290m above sea level. Cape Reinga is the point of confluence of the Pacific Ocean that lies to the east and the Tasman sea that lies to the west. The Maori believed that the male (Pacific) and the female (Tasman) united at this point which led to creation itself.




At the lighthouse there is a pole with markers of various cities with their directions and how far it is from this point. So there is a board facing south saying ‘South Pole’ with the number of nutical miles and kms. Similarly for Copenhagen, Paris, London, Equator, Los Angelos, Vancouver etc. This is a great photo op and everyone gets a photo taken at this point.




But what really take the cake is the view of the sea and its environs from the point. The blue waters simmer on 3 sides and waves crash down below on the rocks. There is such a great feeling of silence, of vastness, of immensity, I feel like I’m light and free and my spirit expands and soars in the profound silence. It is easy to see why legends have been built around this place and why this is considered a sacred site.



We stand for a long time, drinking in the silence and peace and then leave reluctantly. Back down the hill and then take a detour to Spirits Bay. Spirits Bay is another historic site steeped in legend. It was named by the Maori ancestor Tohe who left the area to find his daughter kidnapped by another tribe. He told his family that if he did not return they must catch his spirit on its way past and he called this place "Kapowairua - Catch my Spirit". This is normally a golden sand beach but for three months of the year, the whole beach is covered with tiny pieces of coloured shells. I pick a few of them as mementos :) A great surfing beach. People lived here in the summer because it was close to fresh water supply for their gardens. There are a few tents that people have pitched, I guess they like to live in these natural environs close to the beach in the middle of nowhere, a bit apart from civilisation. I guess it would be nice, to wake up to birdsong, go for a morning swim, and then just laze around the whole day or go paddling in the sea.



Well, it’s back to the motel again for us, after a long drive. The sun is just setting as we drive, filling the sky with beautiful reds, oranges and purples. The colours of a bay that is pass is tinted purple from the purple clouds above. The slanting rays fall on the brown fields lighting them up to a golden splendour, the brown stalks of grass shining bright in the sunlight. And that was the end of another memorable day.

Friday, January 01, 2010

Day 6 - Whangarei to Paihia

Paihia, that little jewel tucked away on Northland’s east coast is where we are headed today. The man at the motel in Whangarei informs me that there is a dolphin cruise that goes out from Paihia, so I’m eager to get there. The last time I tried to watch dolphins was when we were at South Island’s Kaikoura, famed for dolphin sightings, but unfortunately it was Christmas day then and none of the tours were operating on that day. So today, an hour’s drive and we are at Paihia booking tickets for the dolphin cruise.

The room that I managed to get here after paying a rather steep price is a family room, complete with its own washing machine and dishwasher, quite a contrast from the other backpacker places I’ve been staying in. After a quick lunch we head off for the wharf to board the boat that will take us out to the sea.

The skipper informs us that no dolphins have been sighted that day and the lady at the counter who had sold the tickets had said that there is only a 90 percent chance that dolphins will be sighted. So I send up a silent prayer, ‘please send some dolphins this way, there’s a boat load of people wanting to see them, not to mention another boat load who are waiting to jump in and swim with them.’

The boat’s first stop is Russell to pick up some more passengers. Then we head out for the islands that gives the Bay of Islands its name. The sea here is dotted with tiny islands, some too small to be inhabited and some of the larger ones privately owned. The first island that we pass by has a Maori name that means ‘First Island’. It is covered with lush green trees and the skipper informs us that it used to be barren save for three trees but the owners with the help of the Dept of Conservation and putting in considerable effort and expense had gone about replanting trees that over the years had grown to what it is today. Impressive!

In similar fashion we pass by a series of islands. Some have little beaches with people sunbathing on the sands and splashing about in the waters. I believe they go there in tiny boats and pitch tents and stay there, enjoying the sun, sand and surf.



But what really fascinates me is the sea. It gleams and twinkles like an aquamarine jewel, its blue-green body luminously opaque and shimmering, rippling gently under the afternoon sun. Sail boats sail past gracefully like as if they belong to a different era. Jet boats zoom past, creating waves in their wave but why anyone would be in such a hurry, I cannot understand, when you can lie back and allow the sea to rock you gently.

Then the skipper announces that there is good news, the boat ahead has sighted some dolphins and so she takes the boat closer to them. And then there they are! At first only their dorsal fins are visible as they swim just below the water surface. Then suddenly they surface and start playing in the water. Making little jumps and generally frolicking like little kids. The dolphins, the skipper says, are wild ones, not tamed and raised in a tank. They are not fed by humans and do not respond to our orders. They come in this close out of their own volition and it is entirely up to them if they want to make an appearance or not. They do not get fed or rewarded for turning up :) However, once they come within sight they are then treated like great care, much like we would care for little children. The boats go slow and don’t make much noise or unusual activity and the dolphins then know that we can be trusted. Otherwise, they would just go away and not come back. A pod of seven of them play around the boats for a while and then head back to where they came from. It seems like a blessing somehow, this visit by these innocent, loving, playful creatures.

The boat resumes its journey and soon we arrive at one of the furtherest islands which has an unusual feature in that the rock of which the island is made up of has a huge hole in it and hence it is called ‘Hole in the rock’. The boat passes by the hole for all of us to see and then goes through the rock opening, only just making it. This is not attempted if the weather conditions are poor, such as rough seas or a strong swell.

We turn back and after a while arrive at a largish island where we are allowed to disembark and wander around for an hour. There is a scenic spot on the top of the hill that gives a 360 degree view of the bay, so I make an arduous 10 min climb to the top. The effort is worthwhile indeed as I reach up and gaze out at stunning views of the bay. Little beaches tucked away, boats sailing lazily, green islands dotting the blue sea and the sea in all its blue-green splendour.



The last stop is the town of Russell which is not an island but is across the sea from Paihia but can be accessed through a roundabout road route. We disembark over here to check out the town. Russell used to be an old sea port. In the 19th century, it used to one of the first ports after a cross-Pacific sea trip and the sailors after such a long trip would go ashore looking for alcohol. It used to have many bars lining its waterfront and fights were frequent, as the result of which Russell had earned the reputation of being a place out of hell.

But Russell also has the oldest church in NZ built in 1836. A simple, wooden structure with a simple altar and windows that are fastened by ropes. The front courtyard is dotted with graves some of them of people who have died at the turn of the 20th century. A quiet peaceful air hangs around the place, and I think of the bones under the earth, now turned to earth also, and wonder why these tombstones are preserved. Why do we cling so obsessively to the past?

We walk around the Russell waterfront, strewn with cafes and shops and bustling with activity. Boats bob in the bay and people saunter on the sidewalks or lie on the beach soaking in the sun. The houses have a lovely, old-world charm to them, looking like they were built a hundred years ago. It’s a quaint, heartwarming little town with a wonderful ambience and heaps of character.

After sauntering around for a while, we catch the ferry back to Paihia. On the wharf, I spot a splendid looking building, red-tiled roof and looking like it came straight out a history book.



And then it’s back to our ‘family room’. Paihia for some reason has been special, maybe it was the dolphins, or the fascinating colour of the sea, or the whole experience of a perfect day spent out at sea or by the side of the sea. A great start to the new year :)))

P.S. I shall post the islands, Hole in the Rock and dolphins photos after I’ve downloaded them from the camcorder.