Bike Day 5
Trip Day 9
52.05 miles
So I had managed my first big checkpoint. Auckland to Rotorua. With the exception of one nasty road I had done pretty well. The next stage of the plan was the head South to the Great Lake Taupo and the surrounding countryside. After that, I was unsure. But for now, it was time to crack on and get out of Rotorua.
I was happy to be out of the relative comfort of the hostel and back in the saddle. It was another glorious day; yet another beautiful day in the saddle. I knew my luck with the weather wouldn't last so I was grateful for every sun-soaked mile that I road. It was 50 miles out of Rotorua towards the town of Taupo, situated on the northern banks of the great lake. I had planned to make this a quick day as I wanted to have a bit of time in the town. With this in mind the route I had planned was a fairly straight-forward ride down State Highway 5 and straight into town. An undulating route that would begin with a gentle downhill out of Rotorua.
The start of the route cut through the surrounding forests of Rotorua; I had come a long way since the open plains and dense farmland of Northern Waikato and was enjoying some shelter from the sun. As I rode I noticed a smaller track running parallel to the highway. Inquisitive and keen to get off the main road, I changed course and get over there. This track turned out to be part of the Thermal Explorers Route which ran from Rotorua south. Although this track would cut east towards the thermal spring of Waiotapu it was worth getting on whilst it went South. It was a delightful stretch of track, weaving into and out of the hills either side of the highway. Eventually the track ran off to the left and I was back with the big boys on the highway.
My two days off in Rotorua had obviously done the trick; I was smashing out the miles. Even on the uphills I was managing to push 10mph and was freewheeling through the valleys of the Bay of Plenty region. By the time it was lunch time I had clocked 40 miles and had averaged close to 13mph - an impressive feat considering my daily averages so far. Not so hard this cycling in New Zealand, eh?*
*I am fully aware that I will be made to eat this words before the end of the trip. I would like to invite my readers to dish out the abuse and point out this arrogance once I hit the mountains of the South Island.
I settled down in a picnicking spot just off the highway (the picnicking spots I have found to be plentiful, well-maintained and in excellent locations) and tucked into my improvised lunch. I looked around at the flatlands around me and considered how much I had achieved up this point and how far I had come. Somehow I couldn't quite comprehend how far from home I was and how fortunate I was to be in this beautiful place.
My daydream was interrupted by the sound of a fellow cyclist riding the dirt track to my location and offering me a friendly "Hello". I dopily greeted her back, my mind still on another planet. "I saw your bike and thought I should come and say "hello" to a fellow cyclist." Julie, as I learnt her name to be, was a fellow cycle tourist originally from a town in the French Alps. She had an eerily similar bike set-up to me; twin panniers on the back with waterproof bag balanced on top, nothing on the front but handlebar bag, various straps and bungees for extra water and gear. She even wore hiking shoes on the bike rather than going down the clip-in cycle footwear route. The big difference between us was that she was carrying no smart phone and relied upon a paper map entirely for navigation.
We chatted about routes and it appeared she was going a similar route south to me, having come from Auckland. She was travelling slower on average than me but was in the country for about a month longer. She had taken a long way round and had seen the Coromandels as well as Tauranga and the coastline of the northeast. I was jealous of her relaxed pace and considered that 6 weeks were not enough to see this country. She was planning on taking a train south from Taupo. Her reasoning was that there was not a hell of a lot between the Great Lake and capital, Wellington. That cemented my decision; I was going to save the days and jump on the train. I wished Julie "bonne chance" and she took off as I settled down to finish my lunch.
I passed Julie again on a big climbs a few miles from where we had chatted. I took the opportunity to see if I could still overtake somebody uphill on a bike this big. I did....but it hurt! Before long I was freewheeling down the hills into Taupo itself.
Prior to the trip I had been made aware of an app called Warmshowers; a service that allowed touring cyclists to volunteers who had put up their homes, showers and/or sofas for the night. I had not had much luck with this app (nor with the similar Couchsurfing) due to my inability to predict arrival dates and that it was peak season for touring cyclists and backpackers. I had contacted one couple who lived in Taupo but were unfortunately not in town when I would arrive. They had recommended that I try a free campsite on the outskirts of town near to a famous set of rapids known as Human Falls. Free? That's my favourite type of camping. Why not give it a go?
Although the falls themselves were awe-inspiring, the campsite itself left a lot to be desired and was overcrowded. You get what you pay for, eh? I decided against staying here and pedalled towards the town centre with a magnificent view of the great lake as its backdrop.
Long story short I managed to find a cheap hostel dorm room for the night. The campsites in the area wanted to get a small fortune for the privilege of sleeping outside on a patch of their land... The hostel was a modest affair but as I was only there for the one night I could hardly care. I had done big miles today and deserved and bed. I was the last person in the bunk room and, due to the fact the free WiFi wasn't working, we were forced to make conversation. As I write this blog entry I had to admit that I cannot recollect any of my bunk mates names and I only remember their crude nicknames:
Chinese Soap-Opera Guy
Smelly Feet Hitchhiker with Beard
The Incredible Loud-Snoring Man
Obligatory German Backpacker #1
Obligatory German Backpacker #2
I think I will miss you most of all, Obligatory German Backpacker #2.
I rushed into town for a late night pizza with my view out over the lake. With my last few nights having been in relative civilisation, I was beginning to feel that I was no longer "slumming it" in the campsites of the back country. And I didn't know how I felt about that. I almost felt as if I was cheating myself out of the "genuine backpacker experience". Not that I dwelled on the matter that much as I allowed myself an offering from the dessert menu and set about making my way back to the hostel. Earlier that day I had visited the tourist info centre and booked myself onto a high - thrills activity. I was being picked up for 9am and was excited about what tomorrow might bring.
"No point coming half way round the world and only doing it half-arsed eh?" I thought to myself as I settled to sleep, just before The Incredible Loud-Snoring Man began his all - night, cacophonous assault on my ear drums.
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