How's your day? Blog 105, Hostage to Health

How’s your day? Blog 105 Hostage to Health

© Peter A Taylor, Monday 22, April 2013

My new blogger .com address is http://peterataylor.blogspot.co.nz. This is the last day you will find me on Posterous.com.

 

Driving toward Cooks Beach on Easter Monday  invited us to look upon flat and well managed Dairy farms, The Mercury Bay Vine Yard  and very little else, that is until you round the bend and over 300 holiday homes of various sizes fill the vista.  Cooks Beach is another long stretch of paradise, calm waters and a head land at each end.  The southern end of the beach with a narrow channel opened into the serene waters of an inland harbour. Children were swimming over pristine sandy bottom, the water about waist height and warm for 5- meters. Hosting a myriad of fishing boats of all sizes, the narrow channel took the boaties past the iconic Pohutakawa drooping to the water and one claiming a large rope from which children were swinging into the crystal clear water.

 

This area was named when Captain Cook   discovered while searching the area to view the ascent of Mercury, the constellation. A phenomenal feat when his only instruments were sexton and stars to guide him. This event only occurs every 140 years or so (Google to get the correct info). Hence the area is called Mercury Bay and this beach is where the ‘Endeavour’ his ship anchored to trade with the local Maori.

 

This Idealic curve of the harbour invited Rodney to use his wave board and paddle for further investigation. Lying on the sand I caught a few rays and rested under my large straw hat. My energy had not yet returned as expected.

 

Hearing the soft splash of the paddle and with one eye open, Rodney slid his red board from the water onto the sand.

          ‘This place is remarkable. The harbour is huge. I past a boat ramp with a house sited among sprawling Oak and Pohutakawa  with a view of the bush on one side and the beach on the other.’ Drying off in the sun, Rodney spent with excitement and exercise, I watched the kids jumping from the rope through my binoculars.

 

          ‘This is how I remember growing up as a kid in Napier, playing and swimming on the beach,’ Rodney smiled at the memory.

          ‘My experience was similar except my beaches were up in Northland and the Whangarei Heads,’ I answered.

 

The only two places to eat in Cooks Beach is ‘So Vino’, the local wine bar with an outdoor garden or the local get a bit of everything sort of shop for a pie and a liquor off licence. The take-away was not open.  We bought two lamb pies from the shop and decided the local cafe wine bar would be our coffee stop. 

 

The coffee was bitter. As we sat with a grimace we looked at our surrounds, the garden.  We both came up with the same ideas that this space would look fabulous with lights around the giant palms, a smart flower garden, and pull out the gone –to-seed herb garden and dump the cane table with the hole in it. We had the expertise to make this; the only bar on the eastern Coromandel a hit during the season. This opportunity is ideal business for a couple with one being the cook and employing local staff during the season. There was room and potential for outdoor entertainers under the three sails. Once ticked up this little place would hum. It probably is the choice of many on the coast during the season. Sadly we had arrived at the end of the tourist time when passion was spent. However while we finished our coffee 4 couples and a set of parents with two little children all ate and drank wine.

 

Then like a slap up the milking side, reality hit me. Sitting on the op shop outdoor sofa, so wide my short legs couldn’t touch the ground, I remain hostage to my health. Here I am sitting with weak limbs trying to recover from treatment and hostage to the hospital every three weeks. A great opportunity ruined by reality.

 

The redeeming factor was the extremely high standard of the photographic exhibition on the inside walls. A National Geographic photographer friend of the owner exhibits during the season.

 

The last of the dusk sun squeezed out from behind large ominous clouds turning our sky into a 15^th century Christian renaissance painting. This spectacular back drop was the sign to head back to our sanctuary when the majority of other campers moved on or returned to the city to start work the next day. The heavy dew bought with it the deep bush fragrance I loved from my childhood when growing up on dairy farms. The time had come to savour a gin and tonic and to discuss our successful day.

 

                                                   

 

 

 

How’s your day? Blog 104, more Coromandel

© Peter A Taylor, 19, April 2013

 

 

 

My new blog address is http://peterataylor.blogspot.co.nz

 

 

Putting on my magnets (my cochlear implants) I delight in the glamorous birdsong of the Tui, about the size of a black bird. This nectar feeding beauty with  a long curved beak ,sleek blue / black  is identifiable by the two fluffs of white feathers at its throat. Previously called the Parson Bird due to these white wattles were plentiful among the bush surrounding our camp site. Already warm at 8 am this would be another hot day.

 

Over 700 people had invaded the camp site by Easter Saturday. For sanity if one needed an excuse, we ventured to the Hot Water Beach shop for a Flat White Coffee. The jury is out on how good it is but miles from a cafe on a windblown beach, it beat the daylights out of instant substitute.

 

The slob of the shop, a large red Labrador cruised to stare at us looking for a tasty morsel. Clearly a cup cake or end of a sausage roll was not falling from the generous table. So what’s a fellow to do? Next trick is to roll over on his back , legs both front and back spread , exposing his bulbous tummy for a good old scratch. He looked like the sort of old Codger who frequents the Returned Services Club. Chortling with mirth making his multiple chins wobble, entertaining stories of dubious credentials all for the wish of a free beer. Moving from table to table his standard operating practice was finely tuned.

 

Opposite this display of shameless behaviour, is the only Art Gallery in the area. We love art, especially outdoor sculpture. Crossing the empty road we entered the world of Moko Art, www.moko.co.nz . Breathtaking was my first response. From the corner of my eye, among a group of Bromeliaeds, red ceramic flowers on steel rods appeared to belong to these alien looking plants.

 

Koru stems again ceramist, (young fern fronds still curled at the tips) sprung from the white stoned pathway. A group of stainless steel Stingrays suspended on rods appeared to swim across the sleeper posts and white gravel, ready to settle under the great glass bird bath hosted on a huge piece of sleeper. Among the two meter high steel cacti, ceramic depictions ranging in height of up to two meters stood powerful Nikau Palms. Indoors was an amalgam of extraordinary art prints, jewellery made from cutlery with the dessert spoon cut in half to make wings of a beetle and curved forks for legs. Jewellery, exquisite blown glass bowls and vases, semi precious gems and much more took our delight for over an hour. Another room displayed original art paintings, miniature wooded surf boards of stunning grained woods and unique walking sticks on lace wood with deer antler handles. This gallery grown in a mature garden of Dragon trees, huge Nikau Palms, succulents and fragrant Daphne and Gardenia bushes enhanced the display of unusual and unique pieces of sculpture. Mokau Art became the highlight of the art on offer for the eastern Coromandel.

 

Avoiding the other travellers, we made our way to the closest beach called Ha Heir. My first time on this coast line was a triumph as we drove to a classic scene of safe turquoise coloured water in a half moon shaped bay  on a hot cloudless day . All this landscape of natural beauty is framed by the headlands and Pohutakawa. Rodney found a magnificent piece of drift wood to carve a new walking stick or Druids staff. I remained sitting near the shore line, sifting white fine sand through my fingers and absorbing the Ozonated air from the gentling lapping wavelets as Rodney climbed rocks for wood and photo vantages.

 

Food was not as available as city slickers like. We searched in Ha Hei village shop but the Pies were gone. To my seafood fancier delight I found the best Mussel Fritter ever in the ice-cream shop, come taka way. Rodney was satisfied with a fresh frozen berry crushed into an ice-cream. With our bellies full, our tan factor complete, it was time to return to the camp for an afternoon restorative Nana nap  and follow with the delightful and tasty Bombay Sapphire Gin and Tonic.

 

The posterous site is closing on the 30th of April. This is my new address
My new blog address is http://peterataylor.blogspot.co.nz

 

Coromandel

How’s your day? Blog 103 Coromandel

© Pete r A Taylor, Thursday 18, April, 2013

 

Just one more shovel full of sand out of this whole shill do it. Hot mineral water escaping from an underground volcano sent extremely hot water into our pool. You couldn’t fit a shovel between the feet of people digging holes, those looking on for a hot spot and those late people waiting in the low tide foaming water watching everyone like ants guard their patch. As the hot water exuded from the sand below and it looked like we may be able to sit and enjoy this phenomenon a rogue wave swamped us and filled our temporary hole from the temporary wall of sand laboriously dug by hard labour.

 

We chose to stay at Hot Water Beach on the eastern Coromandel Peninsular for a well deserved six day break. We left two days earlier than the Easter traffic and planned our return two days after the end of the holiday. Typical of the roads crossing ranges in NZ, the tar sealed roads are winding and yes you are going over the summit of a range and winding your way back to flat loamy dairy land. Although this each is voted in the top ten in the world by Lonely Planet, it is unique to dig a hole at low tide and lay in the hot waters filled with rich minerals. Just not during Easter when every tourist and NZ’er decides to travel and enjoy the extraordinary long and dry summer. The entire North Island is in drought with no significant rain fall since December. The most ideal time to explore the beautiful coastline of horse shoe bays typical of NZ with Pohutakawa, our giant Christmas trees hanging precariously to the side of a cliff and its ancient boughs slung down to the water and shore lineate both ends of the bay. As if nature designed this turquoise water swimming havens there is an out crop of volcanic rocks at each end depicting another headland to dive yet and other picturesque bay of similar beauty. Most of these beaches have white sand with smooth bottoms as you wade into the warm water. Memories of one’s childhood flood your being and your smile widens to a magnificent grin.

 

We took an afternoon cruise to see the famous Cathedral Cove rock from the marine reserve. On the way our hosts took us into natural caves which in another million years will become another blow hole and perhaps develop one more outstanding cathedral with its roof perhaps 15 meters above you.

 

          ‘You want to swim? Our host asked us on the boat and the eight riders on the inflatable banana. Yes, they were towed behind the little ski boat. Everyone was keen to explore.

 

Negotiating the swell and minor waves our host backed the boat into the shore. Wading almost  waist height through the warm water to explore up and personal, the incredible vista of Cathedral Cove, one of the scenes in the Chronicles of Nadia, The lion witch and the wardrobe. It was almost sun set as we glided back over glassy water, once stopping to peer through the surface to see large Snapper fish gliding effortlessly below in their sanctuary. The last of the sun rays throwing patterns on the rocks below made the bottom look speckled. How very blessed we are in NZ and only two and half hours from Auckland.

 

This area is made up of volcanic ash compressed or over 2 million years. The natural sand formations and constant crash of waves and rogue tides have created shapes beyond wonder. Add fresh water waterfalls with flax bushes framing the huge walls to know that you stand in awe of how small you are in the context of the worlds evolution.

 

Seagulls of several varieties circled and rested on the outcrops of rock totally covered with trees and fruit bearing bushes. Yet you look for soil, knowing this vegetation is growing in cracks of rocks so full of nutrients due to the volcanic nature.

 

With mandatory gin and tonics at our camp site by five and dinner cooked before dark, we settled into our gazebo, toasty warm and read or chatted. In our tent the air bed is as comfortable as the one at home which made sleeping to the fragrance of bush and the soporific crash of waves on the of the beach a special part of this break.  This treat was to help me recover from the beginning of my latest chemo treatments. It would take a while to return from this tough session.

PS.

A further reminder to my readers that this Posterous .com blog site is closing on April 30.  I will advise to where and which site I move to at the next blog.