“Stay in a camping ground these days and you can’t really call it camping; it’s more like ‘glamping’.”
So here we are, February 2022 and I’m still landlocked here and feeling it. Our seaports are still closed and it doesn’t look as though they will be open to cruise ships anytime soon. The closest I can get to cruising the ‘Seven Seas’ this last couple of years has been cruising the open roads of New Zealand.
Yes, instead of hopping on the good ship Queen Victoria this year, I will be boarding a motorhome from ‘Wilderness Auckland’ to explore Northland from the pure luxury of my own mobile hotel room, nicknamed for the duration of this trip, ‘Car-lotta’.
I’ve been hiring campers for a while now and discovering that one of the disadvantages of our ‘Pre-Covid World’ was that while we were busy discovering the rest of the world we neglected our own, but this is the ‘New World’ and it’s time to reprogram our olde ways.
Packing Mr Navigator and his trusty GPS into the passenger seat, we set off to Northland along the coastal route for the first night in Waipu. The coastal route is along numerous beaches and small towns that I am ashamed to admit I have never visited before - even though they are only a stone’s throw away from Auckland.
Years ago, Father - if he was driving us anywhere - would never stop. It was always straight from here to there, no chance of enjoying a toilet break or a beauty spot, no stopping for ice creams or to admire the view, let alone smell the freshly cut grass or hear the cows moo in the countryside. No! With Father it was straight down the road, and if possible ‘as the crow flew’.
Driving with Simon on the other hand, turned out to be a somewhat different experience.
Our calculated 1.5 hours drive north turned into a 4.5 hour scenic tour where we stopped at every nook and cranny that appeared interesting or delightful on the way.
Famous Charlies at Matakana for ice cream, Bennetts Chocolates at Mangawai for free samples, and then a scone and coffee sitting on the beach at Matheson Bay.
We walked along the sand at Pakiri Beach before it was back to the smell of the open road to wind our way up hills and dales then turning briefly inland, to pass farms and hamlets boasting displays of homegrown vegetables, eggs and honesty boxes.
“Quick Simon. Put the windows up and turn on the air-conditioning - that open road carries the smell of freshly cut grass, chicken and cow poop and it’s screwing with my sensitive city senses!”
Now I know why Dad would never stop!
Farmland gave way to spectacular Langs Beach, for another stop and time to dip our toes into the surf. You would think that New Zealand is nothing but beautiful beaches - oh wait it is.
Before we knew it we were at Waipu Cove and its ‘world famous in New Zealand’ camping ground for the first night of a new adventure.
Set right on the beach behind a big sheltering sand dune with plenty of room to swing Car-lotta into place, I discovered that modern day camping grounds have changed since I was a kid. Back in the day we had a caravan, not that my brother or I were ever allowed the luxury of stepping inside.
No, we were relegated to the awning - a wild billowing sheet of canvas that flapped and raged in the wind. We youngsters peered jealously at our parents through the locked and barricaded windows luxuriating in the pleasures of a waterproof environment blissfully unaware of their infants’ discomfort.
Stay in a camping ground these days you can’t really call it camping; it’s more like ‘glamping’. Today you are surrounded by magnificent tents and a variety of luxury vehicles, playgrounds for the kids, and all the facilities that you could wish for. And more often than not, you will even have a safe and tempting beach only moments from your vehicle’s doorstep. This is New Zealand after all.
Once parked, we set up our outdoor chairs, had showers in the comfort of our own vehicle, made sure the wine purchased on route was chilling in the fridge, our dinner of fish and chips had been ordered and a tempting lemon meringue pie was in the oven.
Who would have thought that so close to home, life could feel so foreignly exotic and different. Who needs the hassle of airports and planes and a full security pat down with a thrown in cavity search when this is all here in our own back-yard.
(ROSS THORBY)
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Published 4 March 2022