Lions pose as part of the fountain in the Italian Renaissance Garden at the Hamilton Gardens. Photo / Sarah Ivey
Auckland to Napier road trip by one Generation X aunty, one generation Y niece and her boyfriend: This Auckland-Napier-Auckland road trip could be a recipe for disaster - or at least some bad music. And things didn't start well when she picked me up with the Glee cast slaughtering classic Queen. I took my place in the front seat - boyfriend rightfully relegated to the back - from where I could give the Niece my expert driving guidance. Niece slammed on the brakes before we'd even left my driveway. "Selfie!" Finally, Facebook alerted, we were on our way.
Road trip 2015 had been planned for months. Google had been consulted, diaries synchronised. For all that, we organised it for the day I was bandaged and bruised after surgery; and the Niece was whinging because it was a long weekend and she could have done with the double time. But a promise was a promise and the cousins in Napier were waiting.
She is only just in her 20s but the Niece handled Auckland's rush-hour traffic like a pro - pro slalom skier, that is. I was dizzy and my tongue was bleeding from biting it by the time we hit the Waikato Expressway, where I felt at home giving directions, having at one time been a Hamilton local. The expressway makes the trip to Hamilton a breeze. Long gone are those narrow roads skirting the Waikato River hoping like heck the oncoming traffic stayed on its side of the road. But I hadn't anticipated just how far the expressway had gone - my confident directions gave way to confused silence at Gordonton where a previously-not-there roundabout sent us, well, I won't even pretend to know where. Only one wrong turn later, we picked up familiar State Highway 1, crossing the Cobden Bridge and taking a break at the Hamilton Gardens.
Even Generation Y were impressed by this arboreal masterpiece. "Wow," they said at the symmetrical beds of colourful flowers in the Indian char bagh garden. "Ooooh," they said at the contemplative Japanese garden. "Oh, wow," they said at the pretty Italian Renaissance garden and its fountains splashing in the mid-morning heat. They were least impressed with Modernist garden, and its image of Marilyn Monroe.
The woman at the information counter didn't manage to cover her look of horror when we told her we only had half an hour to explore this fabulous treasure but she pointed out these idealised little gardens as a good start. And indeed they were. There is so much to see you could easily take a day here. But the cousins beckoned and so did Huka Falls.
Facebook updated on our progress, and the Glee cast quietly swapped with Queen mastering Queen, we were on our way again.
The lack of clear road signs is a pet hate and it is no different when trying to find Huka Falls. We listened to the GPS until we figured we were close enough to follow the signs. Which led us to the Huka Jet. Then to a prawn farm. Then left us at a T-intersection - where we took a punt, went left and found the falls.
I've seen them many times but I'm impressed every time. What a gorgeous ice-blue the water is! What awesome power as the river churns through the black rock-edged chasm! With some effort, I managed to stop myself from singing the national anthem in reverence.
So, the Vengaboys now mysteriously on the CD player, we tackled the Napier-Taupo Rd. It's a stretch that would be at home in either the North or the South Islands - winding, bush-clad with steep drops in places and long bridges spanning chasms carved by rivers far below.
The cousins live in Bay View, a small settlement on the coast just out of Napier. We knew we were within cooee when neat rows of grapes started replacing stands of manuka and grasses crisped to a dusty brown by the hot summer sun. By the time we had traversed the 130km Napier-Taupo Rd we were so ready for the bathroom we almost left our poor cousin standing, arms outstretched for a welcoming hug. Gen Y can be so rude.
The Bay View beach is stony, unique in the experience of the young Aucklanders, its grey length littered with washed-up tree trunks the length of a bus, bleached white and knobbly by salt and sun. I'd been repeatedly warned as a child that this beach was unsafe but some locals appeared and were quickly frolicking in the waves, seriously undermining my authority with the Niece.
The best places for swimming are at the more sheltered waters of West Shore and in the region's abundant rivers.
The cousins recommended swimming at Maraetotara Falls, about a half-hour drive from Napier. Singing at the top of my voice to Journey we found the falls easily enough after only about two false turns and it was an easy walk under welcome shade to the deep swimming hole. About two dozen people were leaping from the pools into the emerald-green waters at their base, or lounging about on fallen tree trunks. Generation Y declared the water "freezing" and marvelled at its depth.
The bracing dip deserved a lunch at one of Napier's numerous vineyards and our first attempt was the famous Mission Estate. I'm guessing we looked more dishevelled than sunkissed and the looks we got from patrons and staff made us uncomfortable enough to leave and instead try the waterfront restaurants at Ahuriri.
So, Glee now massacring Journey, we headed to The Thirsty Whale - it had come well recommended and deserved its praise.
We piled into the cousin's ute the next day, race car in tow and, AC/DC blaring from the speakers reflecting the cousin's far refined musical tastes, headed to the Taupo Car Club for a day of sun and petrol-head pleasure. Cousin even managed a win for us - I wondered if it was organised for the thrill of the family down from Auckland, but decided not to ask.
We had one more day in the Bay. On our way to Maraetotara Falls two days earlier we had driven along the foot of an impressive rock escarpment I recognised from wine bottle labels such as Te Mata Peak. The dramatic uplifted limestone cliffs and sheer drops kept my heart in my mouth as Niece and Boyfriend posed for selfies at the most dangerous places they could find. A local obligingly leaped off the cliff for our pleasure, parachute attached, of course. On a clear day, you can see Ruapehu but our view was restricted to the spread of the Bay and its orchards and fields.
Hawkes Bay is one of the nation's many fruit bowls so we had to round off our visit by picking something edible.
Justin Timberlake now making my ears bleed, we were off strawberry-picking. These luscious globes of sweetness are the nectar of childhood summers - still warm from the sun, almost dripping in juice. Delicious.
I decided Gen Y were well overdue for culture so, Timberlake successfully replaced by Pink Floyd, I directed the Niece into town where Art Deco architecture reminds visitors of the earthquake that stopped Napier in its tracks in 1931.
The city's rebuild serendipitously diverted the city into a must-stop on the culture trail. I hate to say it but the Napier museum was a little dull. It offered no new information about the earthquake - it happened and people died and were hurt.
Don't get me wrong, the quake was a tragedy and has helped define the Napier we see today but more information about how it shaped the geographical landscape, for instance, would be interesting.
Napier is the place of many holidays in my childhood. We'd stay with the Uncle and Aunt, see the dolphins at Marineland and have our photos taken with Pania of the Reef. The dolphins are long gone but Pania still sits serenely on her rock on the Marine Parade, ready for her photo shoot with a new generation.
We stopped off on the way home that afternoon, visiting Uncle Arie in his rest home. He's 90 now, my uncle, and still managed to beat Niece's butt in pool.
He and his brother (my dad) emigrated from Holland after the war and built a life for themselves and their families here. And he is part of my memories of the Bay.
Finally we were ready to hit the road back to Auckland, via Rotorua for Niece's boyfriend who had never been there. Yep, that's right, some people have never been there.
We were on a budget by now so luckily he loved the free hot pools at Kuirau Park and the magnificent Rotorua Museum of Art and History, the glorious architecture another free feast to admire.
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