Day 5 - Thames to Whangarei

Today I have company :)))

After leaving Thames I head for Auckland without a single false turn all thanks to the lady in the GPS :))) She faithfully navigates me through the horrendously confusing traffic lanes and takes me to my friend B’s doorstep without a hitch. She is in her late sixties so she’s more like an elderly aunt than friend. She takes good care of me, like a mother hen. Has kept brunch ready so I feast on ‘appams’ and egg roast. What luxury to be fed and fussed upon!!! She will be my companion for the next 4 days of my trip.

We leave her home shortly and head for Whangarei which is 230 kms away. And shortly outside Auckland I encounter something I’ve not come across in NZ before, a traffic jam that stretched for miles. Traffic moving at 10km and ‘stop and go’ conditions. However, both of us are in no hurry to get anywhere so we spend the time chatting happily. Gossip mostly :))) She used to be in Wellington previously and we say nice things about all the nasty people over there. Well, actually, we wax philosophical about the fickleness of human nature and just quote examples. :)))) In the end we reach the wry conclusion that all is ‘maya’, and not worth agonising about.

Anyway, we got out of the jam and from then on it’s clear sailing to Whangarei over smooth almost-straight roads. We check into the motel and after unloading the bags, plonk into easy chairs and put our feet up. ‘Aaaaah! this is life!’ we both happily declare. No men to pick up after, no meals to cook, no rules, no expectations. just being ourselves. Yes, this is it.

After a short rest and a cuppa, we head out to take a look at local attractions. Just out of town is the Whangarei Falls. Quiet, sylvan surrounds, the water flowing over rocks formed by a lava flow and forming a large pool at the bottom. We just sit there and watch the river gurgling around the rocks and fall several hundred feet in a happy roar. Any residual tension melts and flows away with the water and we sit there until the sun gets too hot on our back.

Next stop - Tutukaka. Don’t ask me what that means, but it sure feels good on the tongue. The Tutukaka coast has several bays and beaches and is 26km away. We check out the marina and a couple of bays and finally settle for the Kowharewa Bay. It is sheltered from the sea and the water is almost as calm as a lake’s and is dotted with boats moored in the harbour. The whole bay has a Mediterranean look and feel to it. Time again to sit back on the rocks and relax and watch the waves gently lapping on the sands.


On the way back, we stop once more alongside a small town called Ngunguru that skirts a natural inlet of the sea and sit back and relax on a wooden bench, once again contemplating the pleasantness of life and feeling grateful for the Spirit that made it all possible. Seagulls come and check us out hoping to get food crumbs and the smell of cooking fills the air as dinners get cooked.




One thing I must say about B, she is game for anything. She has a zest for life that is sadly missing in most people her age.

Then it’s back to the motel again. A calm, pleasant day marked with cheerful chatter, the sound of water, the sense of peace and abandon. What a lovely way to finish a year and start a new one :)))

Just to finish off, we’re both armed with an ice-cream each, we decided to usher in the year with some sweet indulgence :))) Hope the new year is as lip-smackingly goooooood :)))

Day 4 - Whitianga to Thames

After I wake up I have a chat with Devpriya who is sitting in the dining room having breakfast with her daughter. It turns out that they used to live in Kalina a few metres from where we used to live and it’s quite possible that we might have bumped into each other on the road or bus or train. They migrated to NZ 6 years ago and 2 years ago she lost her husband in a fatal car accident. After which she packed her bags and daughter and went back to India because she had the notion that ‘a woman cannot survive in a foreign country without her husband’. Her words. I have put it in quotes because it is so significant especially for Indian women. How our conditioning limits our lives in so many ways.

Anyway, after she returned to India she found out that she didn’t get the parental support that she was expecting nor did she get any from her husband’s side of the family. So she packed up again and returned to NZ. She used to teach before but after coming back she got an office job and has changed her attitude to such an extent that she now goes on these solo trips with her daughter. Must say, that misfortune does wonders to people sometimes. It’s good to see that she rose to the challenge and decided to question the beliefs that had previously held her back. But her smile is not fully happy and she seems to have an air of sadness about her but maybe in time she’ll realise that she is whole and complete in herself without needing the crutch of man or marriage to make her happy. I fervently hope she finds happiness within her own self.

The conversation has made both of us late so I then pack frantically to meet the 10AM check-out time. And then I’m on the road again headed for Thames. On the way there is a Kauri grove that is highly recommended but for which I have to take a gravel road with sharp bends. I’m on an adventure and sharp bends cannot deter me, I tell myself, so off I go looking for the grove. The thing about sharp bends is that one has to be very vigilant while driving especially when there is a steep fall by the side of the road and when cars suddenly appear from the other side around a sharp bend. This is when I miss honking. My hands itch to honk so that I can warn the oncoming car of my presence and once I almost bumped into a car that was coming way too fast around the bend. Surprisingly, just before that happened a little voice in my head said ‘honk! honk!’ and while I desisted this white car suddenly burst into view and I had to swerve frantically to avoid it. The guardian angels must be working double-shifts :)))


Finally I reach a carpark where it says ‘Kauri grove - walk 10 mins’ So armed with camera and booted with walking shoes I take to the trail. The road thus far had been through bush country with trees growing on both sides, but on the little path that I’m walking on the foliage gets even denser. Trees, ferns, creepers, palms grow in thick abundance and even the undergrowth is abundantly alive. The road winds over little wooden bridges over surging streams and warbling brooks and birds call among the trees. I am transported into a green, vibrant world of bright sunlight and deep shade where stillness and silence reign and act as balm for the spirit, instantly soothing my frazzled nerves. The kauri grove finally comes into view.

The Kauri tree is a native of NZ and is one of the biggest tree of all, not tallest but big ins size. It is a slow grower but a long liver, some living for thousands of years. The oldest tree in the grove is 400 years old and has a thickness of 1.9 metres and a circumference of 30 metres. Gosh! The kauri used to grow in abundance until the English discovered it and started logging for export to England. It is valued for its honey colour and fine grain. Whole forests were wiped out until the government stepped in and put an end to logging. It is now a protected species.


The trees in front of me tower over the others in the forest and rise majestically above all the ratu, rimu, tree ferns and other trees. I spend a memorable hour wandering around drinking in the air, the silence and the profound sacredness of the grove.



Then, it’s back to the road again, some more sharp bends and gravel road until I finally hit the motorway. Instead of going to Thames which is lies to the south, I head north to a town called Coromandel. To check out a one-hour railway trip which takes one through native bush and maybe a bit of the peninsula. The train itself looks like a toy train with little bench seats and run on a tiny little track, one of those you see in a theme park. Unfortunately, the next few trips are full booked and so I turn back towards Thames. Coromandel itself is a sweet little town bustling with holiday-makes who come there for the sun and sand and great views of the peninsula.

The road to Thames takes me over some more hilly ground around some more sharp bends :( the only consolation being that it is tarred and wide enough to hold two vehicles but only just so. At times it is a tight squeeze and both cars have to really slow down to get past each other. All this nerve-wracking driving is rewarded, however, when I turn the crest of the hill and the sea comes into view. Gleaming softly below in the hazy sunlight like an aquamarine jewel, and it takes all my powers of concentration to keep my eyes on the road.

There is something about the sea that bring up deep stirrings within me. Must be the fact that I was born in a house by the seaside and spent the first four years of life waking up to the sound of waves and watching the sun set over sparkling waters. It brings about a deep calm, an elemental connection that connects to something primordial within me.

But soon it is downhill again and by the time the road reaches sea level it skirts the seaside. The continental shelf on this side must be pretty high because the waves begin much further into the sea and crest upon crest comes rolling on to the rocks, like pretty white lace on a blue-green skirt.

Soon I’m in Thames and I check into the Sunkist Backpackers lodge. This used to formerly be the Lady Savon Hotel and was built in the 1860s so it’s really an old, old structure. The interior still retains its antique look with high ceilings, wood panelling and polished wooden floors. Even the washbasin stands are made of polished wood slabs and the lock on the door is really old-world with the long long key and the light through the wicker lampshade throws neat little patterns on the wall. On the whole it has a nice old-world charm to it. When I open the front door I half-expect a liveried butler to open the door for me but this is not to be. I’m a modern gal in a modern world and here one opens all one’s doors :)))

Thames is also a small town and I’m staying here primarily because I wanted to break journey before the long trip up north tomorrow and also because there is a butterfly and orchid garden in town that I want to see. So after a quick lunch, I head out for the garden.

The garden is again yet another world. A little slice of a tropical paradise. The air inside is deliciously warm and moist and fervid. There are butterflies everywhere, around 400 of them of various kinds. As soon as I enter I spot the little winged delicate beauties flying about amidst tropical plants. They are also hatched here and because their life span is short (around 2 weeks), if the numbers decline they have to be brought in from Asia and South America. There is a little glassed-in hatchery with chrysalis hanging on twigs and when the butterflies hatch they are let out which is usually in the morning.













I walk around the place drinking in the rich moistness which reminds me so much of Kerala with its orchids and banana plants. Then for a long while I just sit and watch the little beauties flit about from flower to flower. Some even do what I assume is a mating dance. Butterflies hovering over and doing a little flapping dance over a stationary butterfly sitting still on a leaf.



I watch fascinated as one black fellow goes from flower to flower and tries to push his proboscis into each. When he finds a bloom he pushes it deep into the flower, drinks for moment and flits off to the next one. Then he comes and perches on the end of my sleeve and tries his trick on the cloth, probably because I’m wearing a red top and he mistakes me for a flower. This brief interest by a butterfly has set my spirit soaring, my heart singing and has made my day and made all that driving around sharp bends to get here suddenly seem worthwhile.


I park the car at the motel and walk to the seashore close by. On the way I pass a beautiful pohutukawa grove with a little pagoda like structure in the centre. The Pohutukawa tree is also a NZ native and is considered a national emblem. At this time of the year it brings out beautiful red and vermillion coloured flowers which is actually a bunch of soft spikes. The trees themselves look gnarled and stately like grand old ladies with little red bonbons in their hair.






So that was the end of another memorable day. I’m going to tuck in early tonight and check out early tomorrow because the drive north is a long one. But I’m picking up a friend from Auckland, a lady in her mid sixties, who wanted to join me. So I’m going to have a companion for the next 3 days. That on a solo trip is going to be different sort of experience.

:))))))

Day 3 - Whitianga

This must be the only day in my whole trip on which I’m not going from place to place but staying put in Whitianga. I’ve decided to give myself a rest from driving and my car a rest from being driven. Dawn is early as usual because it’s summer here but much too early for my liking, so I just lie in bed and allow my body to rest. Finally, I rouse my self from bed and go outside and get introduced to my neighbouring room-mates. The mother and son duo are called Diana and Malcolm and they are from Scotland.

I strike up a conversation with Diana while I’m making my breakfast and she says that they are planning to drive around and see the local places. I express my reluctance to drive today and she offers a lift. Wow! That was providence. So off I go with them. It feels good to just sit in the back of the car and just watch the scenery :) after all the long driving I’ve been doing. It is a much relaxed pace and I’m finally beginning to settle down and relax into my holiday. I notice that a lot of people tend to rush around on their holidays making a list of things they want to do and going around at break-neck speed ticking off items from the list. They end up stressed out even from a holiday and tend to need a break from even from holidaying. Looks like modern man has lost the knack of just sitting by and watching the world go by :)



Our first stop is Hot Water Beach. So called because a fault line lies under it and the underground thermal activity causes the water in a small area on the beach to get warmed up. So people dig holes in the sand and lie in the warm water like in a spa. Because the area is so small and numbers are large, it is a bit crowded. I stand back and take pictures. Diana, however, tries her luck, she goes from hole to hole dipping her feet in them until she finds one that is warm. She soaks her feet in it for a while, decides it’s enough and so we get into the car and drive on.



The town of Hahei is where we go next which is a tiny little town now crowded with tourists. On the top of a hill there is a lookout point with wonderful views of the bay area with the rock formations in the sea and jutting out into the aquamarine sea. Jetboats crisscross the placid waters and occasional sailboat passes languidly by.



This point is also the starting point for a 45 min walk to Cathedral Cove. As we start walking we quickly realise that it’s hard work, as the bush path winds up and down through the bush. Tall trees and graceful ferns rise around us as birds call and cicadas chirp among the dense foliage. Finally all our efforts are rewarded when we reach Cathedral Cove. This is a tiny cove whose main attraction is a rock formation that has a naturally made tunnel in it maybe by years of erosion by wind and water. It has a domed feel inside it and arches at the entrances, giving it its name.



Having hung around a bit we head back up and pass a wide variety of people. Among them a pregnant woman who is brave enough to do the climb, elderly folks and very young kids. But the most amazing one I find are a family with a pair of twin infants in a buggy being pushed by their father. Gosh, I think, they’ve got a hard climb to do. I'm impressed by their never-say-die attitude. The path back seems less arduous than it was the way up and boy, am I glad to see the car park :)

When we reach the car, however, we find that there is a hitch. The car’s battery is flat. Hmmm, I’m having another one of those adventurous days. It is interesting to watch Diana at this point. She didn’t flag for an instant, just took it in her stride like as if the car battery going flat on top of a hill in a strange place in a different country was a normal occurrence. Her manner changed to brisk businesslike and I could see her brain working thinking out various options. What we needed was a pair of jump start leads that needed to attach to a battery of another car and thus jump start this one. I suggest that we ask the cars coming down, maybe one of them might have a lead.

The first car we flag down has two women in the front and they stop only to tell us that they don’t have the leads, but they are very helpful. They suggest the town petrol station as the most likely place to look and so Malcolm goes down the hill to have a look. Meanwhile, we keep trying to flag down cars. Some stop and some don’t and I find it interesting that the cars with woman drivers are more likely to stop as also cars with young people. Men drive away without stopping as also older couples and more well-to-do, snobbish looking types. Finally an old ute (half-car, half small truck ) which looks like it’s going to come apart anytime stops even without asking and asks if we are okay. Diana says no, we are not, we need a pair of leads. They do have one and they are most willing to help. The couple turn their car around, attach the leads and our car starts up. Halleiluiah! I can’t help thinking that that just goes to show that wealthy need not be the most helpful or giving.

We arrive next at Cooks Beach. Which is really just a beach so we don’t stop but head straight for the Ferry Landing to catch the ferry service which will take us back to Whitianga. I suggest we have lunch because the walk has made me hungry, so Diana and I find a little cafe while Malcolm heads back to Whitianga by road where he is to meet us at the other side of the ferry landing.

Over lunch Diana tells me about herself. She is a widow, her husband having passed away 5 years ago. She used to be an analyst-programmer 20 years ago but when her son was born she stayed at home for 2 years and changed her career. She became a photographer of newborn babies. So used to go the hospitals or homes of these babies and photograph them and their families. Before digital photography became prevalent there was a demand for this sort of thing. She’s taken photographs of 10,000 babies and has a photograph of each one of them. Wow! She’s retired now mainly because she got on in years and also with the advent of digital photography, the demand for her kind of job fell. Now she is into sport. Badminton, bowling and curling. Wow! Not bad for someone over 60. But she misses holding and cuddling babies. Awww! I just sit there and admire her spirit for life.


Malcolm is on a working holiday, ie he goes to places he likes to live in and gets a job there, then he visits nearby places. He’s graduated in Engineering but wanted to do this for two years before he got an actual job. He’s been to the US, Canada and Australia. Diana is visiting him here but plans to tour the South Island by herself later on this month. It was nice how I got adopted for an afternoon by this mother-son duo and it warms my heart how she had opened up like that.

They drop me off at the hostel and drive off to their next destination. And I find that I’ve got new neighbours. This time it a mother-daughter pair. Indians. From Wellington. And she knows some of the people I know. It’s a small world indeed. Well, Devpriya is also a widow and is touring North Island solo with her daughter. She tells me there is a glass-bottomed boat ride she’s going to so I quickly go and book my ticket. At 6PM we arrive at the Ferry Landing and board our boat. The skipper is a young lad and his first mate is younger still and he proceeds to tell us about the places they’ll take us too.

So I visit he places I visited today once again, this time by boat and seeing them from a different vantage point. First stop the Ferry Landing on the other side where Will the first mate points out a stone wharf, the oldest in Australasia. I think it’s a bit of a fib, but so what? He proceeds to inform us about the kauri trees that used to grow in these parts and how they were cut down and the logs floated to the bay where they stacked on ships to be ported over to England. Some few million feet of timber was cut down and sent across, in short whole forests were wiped out. Now I believe these forests are being replanted. Thank goodness for that. Ships would arrive at Australia bringing convicts, then come over to NZ, load the timber and go back to England. One such ship was called Buffalo, but it sank in the bay and is still buried in the sand, hence the bay is called Buffalo Beach Bay.

Then we head out into the sea. Along the way Will shows us various interesting landmarks. There’s a rock outgrowth in the sea which looks like an overturned champagne glass, hence the bay is called Champagne Bay. There is a cliff face that looks like a man’s face with a hooked nose and sailor’s cap which someone thought looked like Shakespeare hence the cliff is called Shakespeare’s Cliff. We approach Cathedral Cove from the sea which looks peaceful now with the crowds gone and imposing from out in the sea.



Then they take us to the marine reserve. Here the fish are protected, ie. no fishing is allowed. This is to let the fish numbers to grow and get replenished. They take the lid off the glass bottom of the boat and the ocean floor comes into view. Fish are seen gracefully gliding in the green-blue waters. Sea plants sway gracefully to the current while a deep blue cod sleeps peacefully on the ocean floor. A couple of my fellow passengers jump off the boat for some snorkelling.



Finally, after all the sights we head back for the ferry landing. All in all a good trip with some great views of the Coromandel from the sea. Not to mention seeing the fish in their natural habitat, watching the spray rise in the wake of the boat, the wind on my face and just the feel of the ocean. Awesome!

Day 2 - Taupo to Whitianga

The day dawns early but I laze in bed trying to get over the tiredness from yesterday’s drive. Finally after much pushing my reluctant body around, I check out of the hostel at around 10AM and head north. My next stop Whitianga is around 350km away and is at the northern tip of what is called the Coromandel Peninsula.

After I leave Taupo I glance at the fuel meter and find that the tank is low in petrol. Gosh, goshhhhhhh!!! But I keep going ahead and just miss a petrol station, ie. I see one too late and it’s hard to turn around on a 100K motorway. Anyway, a little distance away, I turn right into a road that says ‘Geothermal Station’. The whole area around Taupo and especially Rotorua has a lot of geothermal activity. The earth’s crust must be lighter over here because this area abounds in boiling mud pools, natural geysers and gaseous smoke that comes from deep under smelling heavily of sulphur.



I turn around and try to go back to the petrol station but the traffic is so heavy from both directions that I get tired of waiting and go ahead instead. Wrong decision!!! Because shortly the road enters a reserve forest. Tall pines tower on both sides of the road and the air is filled with the fragrance of freshly washed pine. After I’ve gone some 50 km, with no sign of a petrol pump I stop to take stock and consult the map. Which is a good thing, because I discover much to my chargin that I’ve taken the wrong route :((( So many litres of petrol wasted, each drop of which now seems precious to me. So I turn around this time and back track, getting more tense by the minute. What if I run out of petrol in the middle of that forest, with cars just whizzing by in high speed? To be honest I am more nervous with the thought of being stranded with an empty petrol tank than when I jumped from 15000 feet yesterday :) I’m feeling lost and confused. This happens with life too. Sometimes we lose track of where we are headed and lose our bearings, floundering in confusion. Then we have to refer to the grand map, take a global view of things and get back on track.

Finally, since I’m now hungry also, I spot a place called ‘Lava Glass and Cafe’ and turn into it, for a bite and a cuppa to soothe my nerves. The counter lady informs me that Taupo is only 15 mins away, so now I can sit back and relax and enjoy my cuppa :)

So, over a piece of carrot cake, I browse the ‘Vogue’ magazine. There is an article in it which talks about the Lost Boys, or men in Western countries (and increasingly women also) who refuse to grow up and take responsibilities. Their activities are geared to make them believe that they live in the world of eternal youth. It has been men’s best kept secret and women’s worst fear come true. Hmmmmm... I know a few like that :)))

My mind tells me that I should be moving on, and getting to where I’m destined, but I counter that with the thought that each moment is to be savoured for itself, the destination can wait, but the moment cannot. Or should not. Live it to the full, a little voice tells me. The little joys are just as important as the major ones :))) So true, like finding a petrol station at last :))) I fill up and and this time find the correct route and I’m off again, carefree and singing to the music. :)))

Taking the wrong route was really such a stupid thing to do because I have a GPS in the car which I’d borrowed from a colleague just for this trip. So now I sheepishly take it out of the box and feed the destination into it :)) When it asks me if I have to reach by a particular time, I firmly press ‘NO’ :)) Time can wait. I’m living in the eternal now, am I not? From then on, I obediently follow the lady’s instructions, turning right and left when she say so :))) If I miss a turn, she firmly tells me to “turn around” :)) Little does she know that some people do not learn from mistakes, hehehe...

However, since I had chosen the shortest route, the GPS takes me through some backroads. Which is a good thing really because mostly mine is the only car on the road, so there is no car following trying to overtake and no car in front which I have to follow. This is farm country and there are corn and other crops growing in the fields. In some places the hills are dark with pine and the countryside stretches undulating on both sides. I pass little villages with quaint houses some looking like colonial bungalows with terraces and creepers trailing on the verandahs. Also, because the traffic is sparse, little birds sit and peck among the dust on the roads and when the car approaches they take off in a flutter. Some birds have a little white patch under their wings, so when they fly off, they glide and flutter, glide and flutter, doing a very pretty dance. I’m enjoying the side-shows immensely :)))

Finally, I reach the Coromandel and discover I’ve still got 82km to go before I reach Whitianga. The road get winding, rising and falling with sharp curves and treacherous bends, but the mountainous landscape is beautiful. It makes me feel small, going through these hills where nature reigns supreme and man has only carved a road around them. And such wonderfully kept roads they are. Except for a few bumps in the backroads, the roads here run smooth and even. Driving on them as such is pleasant, it’s only the heat and negotiating the curves that makes one tired. When Whitianga comes into view, I’m much relieved.

The YHA hostel is situated on the beach :) Well, almost :) It’s across the road from the beach. The room I’ve got here is much more self contained than yesterday’s. Four of us share a kitchen and bathroom and the other family are a mother and son with whom I’ve a nodding acquaintance. After a little rest, I set out for the beach and sit for a while watching the waves and the ferry boats sailing across the harbour. It is most calm and people with hardly any people on the beach.




Then a bath later, I set about to find the only Indian restaurant in town. It’s called ‘Sangam’ to celebrate the mixing of Indian cuisine with a NZ venue, it says on the menu. After filling up my fuel tank with missi roti, palak paneer and mango lassi, I go for a wander around the esplanade. The moored sailing boats make a pretty picture against the background of a setting sun. Maybe I should go and sit on the beach in the night, if the moon is out it will be most lovely .......

Stretching my boundaries :)

It’s that time of the year when the office is closed for 11 days and hubby has taken off for India and I’m at a loose end. So just because I haven’t stretched my boundaries for a while, I decide to go on a solo trip to the northern part of New Zealand’s North Island. (NZ is made up of two islands, North and South between which is that part of the sea called the Cook Strait). So having planned the trip and made all the bookings, I take off one rainy Sunday morning .........

I’m hoping to chronicle my journey as much as possible... So watch this space :)

Day 1 - Wellington to Taupo

27th December 2009

It’s a Sunday and having dropped hubby off at the airport, I pack my things into the car. For someone traveling solo there are a lot of things I seem to be carrying. I realise at this rate, I’m never gonna be a backpacker :) It’s a rainy day and windy as well, but that is not so bad because it keeps the temperatures down and driving is not so tiring. My first halt is Taupo, around 350 km away and after I leave the city, the landscape unfolds like a green dream. Grass covered hills dotted with cream-coloured sheep, head down in the grass. Pastures of cows grazing, the sea lazily caressing the sands with foamy fingers. Pine-covered hills sparkling dark green in the rain and wildflowers nodding merrily along the roadside. To add to the sensual feast Talat Mehmood voice flows smooth against my skin and serenades my heart.

Mount Raupehu rises majestically on my left, head among the clouds and sides still streaked white with snow. There are photo opportunities everywhere but I can’t take any without stopping but the snow-streaked mountain is so breathtakingly beautiful I stop to take pictures. I stop for a short lunch break which involves having my lunch in the back seat of the car. After that it’s back to the undulating road which curves ever so often and winds up and down hills, over little brooks and streams, and beckons, always beckons, to take the next turn, to find out what lies hidden beyond sight.



Finally she comes into sight, the lake that looks like a blue jewel in NZ’s topography. Lake Taupo is one of the largest fresh-water land-locked bodies and is actually a crater of a dormant volcano that is filled up with water fed by various streams. It is so huge that the other side of the lake is not visible and it can be mistaken for the sea, for waves lap against it’s shores and it’s far shores disappear into the mist. It’s a bright sunny day with little patches of cloud and so the blue sky is reflected perfectly in the waters gleaming aqua in the sunshine.

I reach the Taupo township by around 2 in the afternoon and check into the hostel. This time instead of staying in a motel I’ve decided to try out hosteling. Youth Hosteling Association is an international body which provides backpacker accommodation at cheap rates. The room is clean but the toilet and kitchen are shared which is a new experience for me. The kitchen is a large room with crockery, cutlery, pots and pans, stove, microwave and fridge. So basically you get your own materials and use the kitchen to cook and clean up later. There is an attached dining area. It’s almost like the UN there because I hear very little English being spoken, most people are speaking in foreign tongues. Everyone cleans up after himself and food left in the fridge is labelled with the owner’s name. All very clean and hassle-free. However, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to cook Indian food :)

Then I come to what might be the most exciting part of the trip, or even one of the most exciting moments in my life.

To fly like a bird :)

In the list of things I would like to do in this lifetime, parachuting has always been right up there near the top :) To be almost weightless, to glide like a bird, to defy gravity, to feel the wind on my face, to be suspended in thin air high above the earth, it has an almost dream-like quality. Well, I finally got my chance :) Sky-diving. Or to be more precise, tandem sky-diving where you are hooked onto an experienced skilled diver who operates the lines and other stuff and you are left to just enjoy the experience. So as soon as I arrive I sign up for the sky-dive.

Their bus comes and picks me up and drops us all at the airport which is quite tiny really. There we are fitted with overalls and strapped up and given instructions. Then a tall bald guy comes and introduces himself “I’m Freddy” he says, “I’m going to be your best friend for the next hour or so.” Grin, grin, grin :) I feel safe already. The aircraft arrives which looks nothing bigger than a model plane really and looks almost as flimsy but I’m not put off by such minor details. We all get aboard this model plane which has no seats but just a twin row of benches. Each instructor for our batch of six gets behind each ‘adventurous’ person and the fellows who are going to video shoot us get into the front of the plane. The plane takes off and climbs steadily. Freddy turns out to be quite a character. He tells me he’s been doing this for 27 years, has done 17000 jumps, 15000 with other people. So he’s an old pro. I ask him why the life jacket is inside a pouch all zipped up, how are we going to retrieve it in a hurry? He replies not to worry, we’re not going to need it. Such confidence :)))

The landscape from up there is mindblowing. A little river snakes its way to the lake, fields appear as checkered patterns and the highway with its gleaming metal appears tiny and far far away. Freddy gets philosophical, he comes up with such gems as “this will not give you an adrenalin rush like bungee-jumping does, this will give you a serotonin high.” “This will open doors into your soul, doors that have not opened before.”

At 12,000 feet, the first couple of people jump off. Before they jump, he tells them, you’re going to heaven, we are going to space because we’re going to jump from 15,000 feet. It gives you about 90 secs of free-fall before the parachute opens.

Then suddenly it’s my turn. Freddy inches me closer to the door. Strangely enough, I feel no fear, only excitement to really experience what I’ve dreamt about and a great curiosity to find out what it’s like. I had always imagined myself being stricken with fear and chickening out of the jump but now I find myself actually looking forward to jumping. He had told me to kneel at the door and not jump but that he would slowly ease me out. So I kneel at the door and look down. In awe... and perfect calmness ...

The videographer jumps first, then Freddy eases me out and we are out of the door and in thin air. It was just like walking out of any ordinary door. We gets turned upside down at first but a little chute opens and we are face down again. Freddy signals me to spread my arms and I am flying like a bird.

What follows thereafter cannot be described. It doesn’t feel like falling, just a glide at great velocity, the wind whipping against my face and clothes. The lake is spread out below in all its splendour, gleaming in the sunlight. We pass clouds like one would pass trees on the road and Freddy says poetically, “now you know why birds sing...” I have to say, I agree. My happiness is so huge and overwhelming that a huge smile spreads across my face and sits there. The video guy tries to get me to look at the camera but I’m so intent in what lies spread out below me that I ignore him and his camera, even though I’m paying extra to get him in the air too :))) It is such an other-worldly experience that I don’t even have memories maybe because my mind had shut down and was not recording anything.



Finally, Freddie gives his parachute a tug and we go from vertical to horizontal with a big tug. The fall is arrested somewhat and we are now gliding serenely above Lake Taupo. The sun glints off clouds and sparkles on the waters and the world looks so much at peace. I wonder if this is the view that God gets. After all his universe is perfect in all respects, it’s only our mind that messes it up. Freddy does some swings with his parachute, so we veer to the left and right in graceful arches like two huge birds. Finally, it’s time to get down to earth and we land on the grassy landing area.

To fly like a bird, that dream of mine has finally come true ........

:)))

P.S. The rest of the photos and the video I shall post later ......

An afternoon snapshot

stretched out on the bed
rain tapping on the roof in waves
melody of troughs and crests
my mind stops to listen

cake baking in the oven
filling the house with aroma
sweet spicy maternal
like loving mother hands

stretched out on the bed
‘tween spaces in the rainsong
in the warm embrace of smells
my body stops to unwind

little vignettes of life
captured by memory
stored away somewhere
for another rainy day

in the wonb of this poem
suspended in time, i float
on the edges of reality
stretched out on the bed

My love, can you?

My love, my love, can you hear
the call of my heart
the stirrings of my soul?
When the wind runs its fingers
through the leaves of the trembling trees,
and the rain caresses the tree-trunks
then becomes one with the earth.
When through the night my soul
fights off the demons of the dark.
and the morning sun comes to kiss
my face, in repose at last.

My love, my love, can you feel
the love that bursts forth and spills
and makes me melt and flow.
A love gentle, yet relentless
that brings out all my fears
and destroys them one by one.
That humbles and purifies me
by destroying the dross and the vile,
even as it lifts me up and exalts me
and reveals to me my divinity
and makes me a worthy child of God.

Haiku

Do I write,
or does God write
using my hand?

Arcs of lightening,
claps of thunder,
God's pleased with Herself.

I take your hand,
you touch my soul,
instantly I'm free.

Labels and names
I seem to forget,
can I call you Soul?

Rich man in mansion,
poor man in hovel,
both prisoners of the mind.

Once you're free,
mansion or hovel,
it doesn't really matter.

A moment of grace

I have come home early today and after walking the 4km from the station, I’m a bit hungry. So I make myself a fried egg and a cup of tea and eat it in solitude and silence, savouring every bite. Outside the sky is blue with white cottony clouds floating by languidly. The sun peeps in and out of clouds and when it is out, the light falls full upon everything, the garage roof next door, the leaves, the petals of flowers, the grass, brightening them up to a golden sparkle. It falls through the french windows and lace curtains onto the floor in filigreed patterns. A light breeze caresses the tree-tops making the leaves scatter the sunlight here and there in a merry dance. As I sit there doing nothing but taking in the scene, I think ‘This is it! This is just it!’. A moment of grace. When nothing is done and nothing accomplished and yet is full of beauty and peace and strangely enough, eternity.

Accomplishment. It seems only man is capable of such a thing. But, our intellect, our achievements, are to what avail, I wonder.When I look at all the non-human living beings on this planet I somehow get the feeling that they are living close to their core or source. Man is the only animal who even though endowed with great intellect has moved away from his core. We have accomplished so much, built cities, warheads, machines, yet we struggle to build relationships. We have amassed hordes and hordes of knowledge in our brains, computers, storage systems but know so little about our own selves, let alone the next person. We have split the atom and found quasars but have still not found a way to live without war and in peace. We have sent man to the moon and space craft into inter galactic space, but cannot seem able to take a small step towards our inner self.

It is twilight now and that magical time of the day when light retreats and shadows take its place. The air is hushed and full of mystery as night walks in following the footsteps of the departing day. Our activities, our bodies, our minds wind down. Nature has so cleverly built into us the rhythms of day and night, of activity and rest. A time to work and a time to put our tools down, including our mind. Especially our mind. Time to turn off the lights and listen to the music of the stars, the soft breathing of beings asleep, the stirrings of the soul and realise that we all interconnected. That beyond the veil of illusion of the material world, we are all one.

Relationship

--------- excerpt from The Mandala of Being ----------

A relationship is an energetic alchemy that two or more people create together which has the potential to accentuate the closeness or distance of each from his or her true self. How close to, or how far from, our true selves we live determines the quality of the relationships we create.

- Richard Moss

On Being

“There are moments when one feels free from one’s own identification with human limitation. At such moments one imagines that one stands on some spot of a small planet gazing in amazement at the cold and yet profoundly moving beauty of the eternal, the unfathomable. Life and death flow into one, and there is neither evolution nor destiny, only Being.”

- Albert Einstein

The day was crystal clear and sparkling .....

Today when I got out of the house in the morning the sun was shining, but it must have rained during the night because everything outside was wet. There were tiny droplets of water on the leaves, the flowers and the tiny droplets on each blade of grass shining in the sunlight made it look like the grass was wearing sequins :)) The light has a different quality when the sun shines again after the rain. The air is crystal clear and sparkling and the trees, houses, roads look spanking clean. Sitting on the train I look out as we pass the river. The water is almost still and the trees look like they are looking at their own reflection in the water. A group of gulls sitting on a sand bar is perfectly reflected on the still water. Watching the scene, it occurs to me that this is how witnessing comes about.

Your thoughts, actions, reactions, no matter how turbulent are reflected on the stillness of your inner silence. There no thoughts emerge, no reactions occur, there is just silent witnessing. Thoughts come and go, reactions rage and pass away, concepts are formed and changed, opinions rise and fall, but the witness only witnesses these temporary phenomena. It remains unchanged, unaffected, serene and calm. In this witnessing lies all wisdom. It is the link to the realm of the infinite wherein lies only innocence and pure love.

When I got home in the evening, the trees were alive with the sound of birdsong. The little ones were calling, talking, scolding but in such a musical manner it makes the heart swell with joy. I go for a walk and the sunshine is warm and invigorating. It feels as if summer has finally arrived here after much hemming and hawing and delay :) The light falls dazzling on everything, lighting up the grass to an emerald brilliance, the tender young leaves blushing rose and the leaves silhouetted against the light a translucent shade of green.

Back home while I'm writing this on my laptop I have an unusual visitor. I've left the front door open to let in some fresh air. I see a slight movement near the bedroom door and I turn my head slowly to see a jet black cat with green eyes walk into the room. I am sitting absolutely still so it doesn't notice me. It sniffs at the various objects on the floor and is walking towards my feet when it looks up and sees a pair of eyes looking into its eyes. Its instinctive reflex is to flee, it stiffens and almost turns away but after the initial fear response, it relaxes and looks into my eyes for a few seconds more and realising I'm no threat it turns and leaves, slowly and with dignity.

This is the thing I love about animals other than humans, they are living from the core, true to themselves. In innocence and in being-ness.