International Fruit Smugglers

We barely escaped heavy fines and custom agents entering Australia. It was only Mia's quick wits and love of dogs that saved us.

Going through customs, a working beagle came through sniffing bags. He got very excited at my backpack and wouldn't leave it. I laughed with the customs agent, saying he must want the peanut butter sandwich. Before we left San Diego, my mom was in town and packed us sandwiches for the plane. We had barely touched the food and it was still in my bag. The customs agent brought my backpack over and examined the contents. Her smile faded as she pulled out a bag that contained not only sandwiches but a bag of carrots, grapes and, oh horror, bananas. Uh, oh.

"Ma'am, do you know there is a steep fine for bringing fruit into Australia illegally?"

Me, "Uh, my mom packed it." Nervous smile. God I sound like an idiot. I'm blaming my mother???

Mia, "Look it how cute the dogs are. Can I see them?"

The agent's face softens and takes Mia to check out the other fruit-sniffing Beagles. She comes back in a minute, chatting with Mia and says she won't fine me this time. We left before she could change her mind.

Thank you, Mia.

 

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Ghetto Parking at LAX

 

"But LAX is the other way off the freeway."

"I know, but this is the direction for the long-term parking."

A half a mile later, deep in the heart of Inglewood.

"Are you sure?"

Irritated. "Yes."

"So how much was this parking?"

After circling it twice, we realize that the TradeWinds Hostel for Backpackers is the home for our long term parking.

Clever online marketing and low pricing drew us in. As we passed more buildings with bars over the windows on the way to the hostel, I began to wonder if this wasn't the most dangerous part of our journey. And to think, I didn't realize our adventures could begin before leaving US soil.

As we pull in and speak with the lovely woman behind the counter, there are young international twenty year olds playing pool in the background patio with the heavy scent of marijuana wafting through the air. I suddenly feel like I'm twenty years old again, carefree with nothing but $5 and a backpack. The sense that anything can happen.

That feeling is still with when when I turn as my kids ask me where the bathroom is. While I fill out forms releasing the hostel of responsibility of damages to our car, Rob asks where the car will be parked in our absence.

"Oh, we have some off-site garages around town." She says with a gold-grill grin, before continuing her conversation with the fellow attendant in spanish.

Rob looks at me and asks "Do you think we'll ever see our car again?"

It's debatable but the decision is made.

We then pile into a 1970's party bus with the happiest driver in the world blasting his favorite hits from the 80's and singing along wildly. We are the only passengers and we all join in, dancing and humming as we make the multiple mile drive to the airport.

It's going to be a goooood trip.

 

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Preparation like a Boy Scout

T - 36 hours til departure. I am at the computer, seeking out best travel cameras to purchase 24 hours before leaving the country for Australia with the family. And yes, we've had plane tickets for six months. Why do I do this?

We like to live on the edge.

I guess I could have researched cameras for weeks and agonized over the features and trade-offs. Instead, I got lucky. I texted those two friends we all have- you know, the ones who are smart and do their research and likely would have purchased their camera well in advance of their trip.

The answer? Any version of the Canon Rebel series. The annals of Best Buy await.

 

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Post Mortum

Time flies, eternity awaits.

- quoted from trailhead sign on the mountain that the Maori deemed "Intensely Sacred"

Raglan

Finally!  It has taken over two weeks to get here but finally we have arrived at the one of the most famous left hand point breaks in the world with great anticipation.  As the camper slowly climbs the final peak before dropping into the bay, anticipation is high , at least for Dad.   And.......wow!

Raglan, from a distance

Pealing shoulder high point break

The view is incredible, a huge bay with a right hand sand bar peals off in the distant North west, and to the left of the bay are 3 point breaks, unfortunately it was only shoulder high but pealing w/ perfection.

Happy Rob

It was already 6 pm so I paddled out quickly before sunset, the only one without a wet suit, mind you.  
Water temp was about 70, super friendly locals, something we aren't used to coming from California, and some clean lefts.  It was basically a left hand Rincon, really fun with a cobblestone bottom.  With sunset looming we left for the camp ground, another great site with a trampoline and playground.

Kai on the trampoline, in a downpour

What a difference a day makes.  Raglan, a day later.

Rob checking wave conditions while it rains outside

The forecast was sunshine for the rest of the week, however I was awakened in the middle of the night by rain pelting the camper.  The following morning it was heavy rain showers and lots of wind.  Surf was junk so we cruised downtown, had lunch, and rented the final Lord of the Rings, which we later found out was a mistake.  After watching the movie the weather calmed down, so we went to watch sunset and guess what , surf was going off.  Apparently around 1pm the wind switched and while we were watching Aragon fight orcs, the waves were great.

Both Jen and I paddled out to a  crowded line up.  The crowd was much different then the day before, more people and primarily younger short boarders absolutely tearing the place up!  Later we found out that there was a big surf contest being held here the next day so the contestants were out practicing.  Still, the vibe was good and even I snuck in a wave or two.  The highlight was Jen catching a great wave for 100 yds, one of the highlights of the trip.

Approaching the beach break, day 3

The swell was dying quickly.  The next day we checked out the contest, then opted for the beach break for ourselves.  The sun was out and the waves were good, if you liked closeout thumpers.  The inside was great for the kids though, and both kids caught some waves.  It was a great way to end the trip, and we had our last meal at a great cafe dining on some famous green lip mussels.  Depression has set in, we don't want to come back to reality!

Mia

Kai on a wave

Milk, the Other White Meat

This was the best unplanned stop of the trip.

Kai and Mia preparing for a ride on the 4-wheeler

Jen:  The hospitality of the Kiwi's is unparalleled in our book, due mainly to Greg.  Greg is the gregarious dairy farmer we met at a holiday park, earlier in our trip.  We decided to take him up on his offer to see the farm and rang him up. 

View from the farmhouse

He seemed delighted to host us still, and told us to come look for him, if he wasn't in the house when we arrived.  It sounded like a simple instruction until we pulled up to his place.  It was a rambling home set up on a vista, overlooking acres of green rolling hills.  There were shades of green I've never seen before.  Greg wasn't home.  Rob and I stared at each other, unsure where to find him, as it appeared he could be anywhere in a five mile radius of farmland. 

#132 and friends

Rob:  Well, it being a dairy farm we decided to start off to look for the cows.  After climbing the first hill we came across the first "herd".  200...300 pregnant cows standing around, loudly chewing the grass, staring at us.  They were as confused as us.  Kai asked if they had names, which was a great question but upon further inspection, each cow had a number tagged to its ear, so I introduced him to #132.

View of his farm and native bush

In the distance we saw what looked like a potential milking station so we started trekking towards it in our flip flops.  Now mind you, this farm is huge, 600 acres of rolling hills and trees.  Suddenly, in the distance we saw a puff of dirt and someone was on a 4 wheeler heading towards us, hopefully Greg, if not we might be in trouble.  With a big grin Greg pulled up and greeted us like we were family.  He insisted that we stay for tea (tea = happy hour), dinner, and the night and gave us the full tour of farm.  500 heads of cow, 600+ acres, 60 acres of preserved native bush, and the family compound, it was amazing place.  His family had farmed it for generations.  

Mia on the 4-wheeler with the whole valley behind her

Front row seats

Of course he had beautiful steaks out for dinner (his own farm raised beef, naturally)  accompanied by his partner Rebecca's famous twice baked potatoes.  Rebecca had kids the same age as ours, and our kids disappeared immediately to play with their new friends.  The whole experience was incredible, not to mention their hospitality.  It was our one true night of "freedom camping," in Greg's driveway.

With sad farewells, it was time to get Rob to the ocean in search of that perfect wave at Raglan, which happened to only be 1/2 hour away.......O by the way there are no predators in NZ, let alone poisonous snakes or bugs.  The only thing that bites are sand flea's and mosquitos.........no tigers, lions, bears, mountain lions, t rex..........what a great place.

Glowing Worms

After Rotorua, we were aiming to do some black water rafting in the caves, complete with rappelling down and jumping into underground waterfalls, in search of glow-in-the-dark worms.  Or so, that's what the brochures promised.

We missed the small print "If your children are 12 years old or weigh as much as a 12 year old."  

We stared longingly at the adventure spots (or maybe just I did) on the way to our much more tame, but still enchanting cave tour.  The photos they sent us do the tour more justice than my descriptions.  The glowworms were very cool.  I thought they were so magical until the guide told us that technically, they are maggots.  I much prefer the glowworm description.

It felt a little bit like one of the old rides at Disneyland - the Peter Pan ride or Alice in Wonderland, old world magic versus new world adrenaline.

We also went into other limestone caves and were 20+ meters underground.  I don't know what that is in feet, but it was deep.  The guide described the topography of the area, a fault line with lots of limestone, as "swiss cheese," and riddled with caves all over.  The formations were estimated to be ten million years old.  How is that even possible?  There is something so surreal about being that far underground, witness to something unfathomably old.

Off to the Dairy Farm.