fathers

Today is Father's Day in New Zealand (September 5th). 
When I was in Samoa it was Father' Day (August 9th). 
and I last spoke to my Grandpa Beggs on US Father's Day (June 20th). 

GRANDPA BEGGS

June 2008, our last in-person visit

With three father's days this year and losing both my grandfathers in the last two months, it seems only fitting to post on the blog today. I love this picture - grandpa with me and a samoan tapa (siapo) on the wall. Grandpa & Grandma visited my dad in Samoa in the 60s during his Peace Corps service. 

Here they are in 1985:

From one of my Grandpa's geneology emails: "Adella was home at Thanksgiving and briefly dated Alan Beggs. She came back for a week or so at Christmas and they spent much time together. They were engaged Feb.6 and eloped and married March 1, 1937 - before the folks came back from Florida."

Grandpa was our family geneologist, following his father's lead. When I was in Belgium as an exchange student in '91-'92, he sent me detailed instructions to churches, graves and castles in Scotland to visit, as well as other European lineage back to the middle ages. When I did my infamous 50-mile "Easter Sunday bike ride of '92" to Dunmaglass and Dunlichity Church (where my grandma's MacGillivray side is buried near Loch Ness), the locals welcomed me like family and it was surely because of the connections I brought from Grandpa's letters. Grandpa and I always had a special connection with international travels, love for languages and penpals the world over (by 15 years after my grandma passed he had quite the roster of international girlfriends!). Learning Portuguese and active on email in his 90s, Grandpa was a model of living life to the fullest. He was also the patriarch of a family tree full of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It sounds like our family reunion last week at his memorial was second only to his 50th wedding anniversary celebration. So sorry to have missed it. He joined his wife on August 22, 2010.

6 of his great-grandchildren (my bro's 3 boys and my cousin's 3 girls), 2009

GRANDPA ARCHIE

Christmas, 2009

Archie, my grandpa on my mom's side, wasn't my blood grandpa (my mom's dad died a year before I was born, a veteran of the WWII Aleutian Campaign). Archie married my Grandma when I was 2, so he is the only one I've known. He dated my grandma before her first marriage and his brother married my grandma's sister - which made it extra special when they got back together after her husband's death. Archie loved garage sales, where he always (and only) offered 'two bucks' and often justified a purchase with "I don't know what it is, but it's the best one I ever saw!" That was reason enough to collect it. Arch was a good golfer, story-teller, dog-spoiler, and liked helping his grandkids get into trouble, even if it meant losing a tree in his yard because he let this granddaughter behind the wheel of a riding lawn mower a little too young. I think we've got a picture of him letting each of us sip beer as a kid (prompting my photo tribute below with my nephew Ryan last year). Archie had a great sense of humor, as you can see, and loved his three adopted grandchildren (even when we mercilessly helped him quit smoking). He passed on July 1, 2010.

Sarah, Grandma, Archie (Buddy) & me, Christmas 2005

Greeting me at the airport as an elf is "normal"

DAD

And finally, a third father's day for my theatrical father! Well, the two Samoan blog entries below are dedicated to dad and he's right: there seems to be a genetic predisposition to the Peace Corps that I've inherited. I could go on and on, but I'll paste below what I wrote for the Top 40 Under 40 award booklet last year, since they gave me a word limit. (I need one when gushing about my dad.)

Name the person you most respect and why?
(in 150 words or less)

I most respect my father, Jim Beggs, who has always led by example in pursuing fulfilling life work, accepting challenges, creating adventures and sharing his love for music. From serving in the Peace Corps in Samoa, to practicing family medicine in the public health service and rural communities, he has always valued hard work and dedication above high pay or recognition. Returning for a master’s degree in his 50s, he added health administration skills to his medical training and continues to work towards health care solutions. But above his inspiring work ethic, I respect how he has led a very busy professional life, yet found time to sing and play guitar around the campfire, guide our hikes like an expert naturalist, and show us the joy of curiosity and lifelong learning. His overwhelming return of respect to his children has made him one of my best friends as an adult.

Sarah and I had a great time at Aggie Grey's (the historic resort in Apia, Samoa) our last night, creating a photo collage of Dad's head in various locations about the lobby. For the full narrative of 'the phantom proprietor of Aggie Grey's,' click here for the slideshow.

I LOVE YOU DAD!

Happy Father's Day (again)

earthquake

I'm sure you've all heard about the 7.1 earthquake in Christchurch yesterday. Here's a link to news/pics if you're interested. Just to let you know I'm safe in Wellington (north island, Christchurch is on the south island). There is a lot of central city damage and although no loss of life has been reported, the greater region has major water, sewer and electricity issues to deal with, in addition to major structural damage. 

www.stuff.co.nz

I've been really impressed with NZ's emergency response and reporting of the incident. I listened to Radio NZ most of yesterday, who did a great job, and it dawned on me this morning how well TV is doing too (didn't miss the US media, who would have already branded the disaster with a catchy phrase while hyping sensationalist stories over facts). New Zealand news is still quirky (as Sarah can now attest), but my hat's off to them this weekend. They, like the rest of the country, are showing great solidarity, generosity and sensitivity to victims. Recovery efforts are also impressive, with systems in place that are actually working, it seems. The official disaster status meant the bunker under the 'beehive' (our parliament building's nickname) was put into action, and the government's earthquake commission has $12 billion (NZ) to fund insurance claims.

Not sure who will be at work monday at the College of GPs, where I temp part-time. 90% of our staff left for the GP national conference in Christchurch for the weekend. There will be no shortage of doctors in the city, thankfully!

samoa #2- 'Upolu

After the jam-packed ferry from Savai'i & overflowing bus ride into Apia, I was ready to walk to my hostel from the Maketi Fou (central market & bus stop), no matter how far it was. Well, it was a ways - beyond Aggie's and across the bridge on Beach Road, though I enjoyed getting to know the town on foot. I settled (rather collapsed) into my least favorite lodging of the trip (a bit institutional) and then enjoyed a sunset walk on the waterfront. Just across the street there were tunes blaring from the deck of an italian restaurant and I wondered if it was the one my parents recommended (with a very entertaining fa'afafine owner). Fa'afafine are cross-dressers, a very accepted part of Samoan culture (though homosexuality is not). I decided I deserved a meal out (after only coconut milk for lunch) and opted for the closest thing, so headed in. In fact it was the place and I knew it the second he greeted me with a high-pitched "table for one?" flaunting a tight black shirt unbuttoned down to his belly button.

Before and after dinner I was greeted by my newest friend on the waterfront, a 50-ish guy who struck up a conversation with me by yelling a hello from down the walkway where he was sitting on the big volcanic rocks near the water. He proceeded to swim over and chat for half an hour (while treading water), sure he'd met Peace Corps volunteers from my dad's time who taught him how to play baseball. For my two days in Apia he was always there on the waterfront, and always yelled a talofa (hello) or malo (hi) to me by name when I passed.

The next mornnig an Aussie girl, Amanda, joined me for breakfast -- the same Aussie from the Manase fales. We decided to split a ride up to the Robert Louis Stevenson museum - he was much loved by Samoans, had a big villa (Vailima) on the hill above town, and is buried on Mt Vaea. Vailima in this instance translates as '5 streams' rather than 'hand water' like the town and the beer.

We climbed the mountain (in a downpour) then hiked downhill to town (in full mid-day sun) -- I got back to the hostel just in time to eat a sandwich and change for my afternoon meeting with the Peace Corps Country Director. I thought it would be smart to get a real taste of the job while visiting a Peace Corps country, so had set this up in advance. Glad I did, as Dale was really helpful in affirming my interest in the job. After our chat I spent the rest of the day roaming the streets and markets of Apia. I enjoyed a dinner at Aggie Grey's, curious about this historic resort where my grandparents had stayed in the 60s and my parents stayed in '97 during my dad's 40th Peace Corps reunion. They had a guitar ensemble playing, so I lingered, then went back to pack up for Sarah's arrival in the morning.

 

The 'sistas beggs' adventure began at 7am when Sarah arrived on the veranda of the hostel, safe, sound, & excited for one of her first big international travel adventures (since her trip at 11 to visit me after my exchange student year in Belgium). After breakfast we got a ride from Mona (a taxi who owed me money from my arrival when he couldn't make change) to the market where we promptly bought the necessary lava lavas (unisex sarongs) we'd wear forever after. We sat in the middle of the bus shelter and watched intently for anything marked Lalomanu, Saleapaga or Falefa - the 3 buses I'd identified heading east from my 'research' the day before. (note the Bon Jovi bus - does he know?)

The Lalomanu bus we boarded only took us as far as the flea market across town, then parked and informed us he wasn't leaving until after 2:00. So we looked for the next bus - found one leaving around 10:00, or so they said. We looked around the market then relaxed on the grass near the buses until we finally boarded the beast that would do a few loops around town until full, then head east along the north coast of 'Upolu.

We lucked out - this bus wasn't nearly as crowded as the ones I'd taken in Savai'i. It did have a good amount of supplies for the other side of the island, though. After a petrol & ice cream stop we were soon near our first destination - Falefa Falls. Per usual, we were dumped on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. We crossed a bridge and walked down the road to a fale at the top of the steep hill down to the falls. 

The women offered up a young boy, Anthony, to guide us and jump off the cliff for our picture-taking pleasure. Anthony also helped us scale the rocks behind the main gusher, diving through it at the end. Then he showed us manageable rocks for us to jump off (like 8 ft). We had a great time. When we hiked back up the hill, the ladies of the fale invited us to join their family for lunch. Luckily I'd picked up some taro chips and apples so had an offering to share. After a great soup (that unfortunately Sarah had to reject as a vegetarian due to the large joint floating about), we headed back to the main road to start waiting for a bus.

It would be a while before a bus came and we knew it - there's a tradition of extra-long-and-unpredictable lunch breaks, so we thought we'd be lucky to see a bus before 3:00. We settled in the shade of a palm tree and watched the local traffic: guys walking with baskets of coconuts supported by poles across their shoulders, kids walking home from school, and the occasional tourist (a nice german couple shared fruit with us when I shared my pocket knife). After being nearly trampled by school-children wanting their photo taken, a dump truck pulled up and asked the magic question, "Lalomanu?" - "YES!" we said, and climbed into the high cab.

There's nothing like the unobstructed view out the windscreen of a big truck! We drove the Richardson Road pass through the mountains to the southeastern tip of the island with 2 guys who spoke little to no english, one who squished himself behind the seats to allow me in the passenger seat and Sarah perched on the plastic compartment between seats. It was a gorgeous mountain drive, with cheers from our back-seat rider when we took particularly good photos.

Then we came to the coast and Lalomanu, where they endured the worst of the Sept '09 tsunami. The view was heart-breaking, with over half of the village fales reduced to foundations, ground scoured bare, and churches battered. Communities were rebuilding, though, and doing a great job. We stayed at the rebuilt fales on Taufua Beach, where the owner had lost 14 family members and still had not gone back in the water. The coral reef was pretty injured, fish were returning, but people's possessions were still spotted by snorkelers rather than bright underwater scenes.

We enjoyed a fia fia that night -the traditional night of dance, song & fire-throwing. Dinners were on a long communal table with other guests and we met the only American on our journey, a RPCV back doing a graduate thesis documenting stories of tsunami survivors. We shared a fale with her since they didn't have room for us otherwise.

The next day we negotiated a taxi fare to take us to virgin cove, on the south coast west of the cross-island road. Buses didn't really do that route -- all headed back to Apia, one way or another, over the mountains. We got Bruce to drive us (with his pink boa draped across the dash), stopping at a few choice spots. Our first stop was To Sua Ocean Trench, a magical sink hole where you climb down a ladder to a pool that is connected to other sink holes through caves you swim through. Fairy grotto indeed!

We hit another waterfall, then went straight on to virgin cove, as it was raining and Bruce had clearly underestimated the distance (nevermind the 4WD-only track at the bitter end). We compensated him for his time and trouble by giving a large tip to help his family rebuild back in Lalomanu.

Virgin Cove was at the end of the rutted dirt track past Sa'anapu and quite surprising - a real retreat, almost like a high-end campground of fales tucked in the woods, outdoor showers surrounded by lava rock walls and small coves laced with jet black rock. On our evening walk we passed mangrove trees in a swampy area before being drenched by a sudden downpour -- it was even cool enough to wear long sleeves that evening! After enjoying a great dinner and even better musicians, we faced the music and accepted the next day was our last and we needed to get back to Apia for our flight. (We were definitely at the end of the road and Sarah wondered if I'd gotten us to a place we couldn't get out of.) 

Happily, they had a morning shuttle, so we enjoyed a comfortable ride back over the (secondary) cross-island road (there are two) and the colorful fales of rural 'Upolu. (note the tombs traditionally placed in the front yard - R) We came into Apia from the west, delivering a paycheck to a resort employee on the way. As the only guests aboard, we enjoyed a chat with one of the employees on the shuttle who was coming into town to do deposits and payroll. They dropped us at the visitor center, which allowed us to leave our bags for the day as we explored Apia, where we were soon spotted by a couple taxi drivers who said, "hey, aren't you the girls from Lalomanu?" Love it - locals in a week!

After making an airport shuttle reservation at Aggie's (they allowed us on their shuttle and held our packs for the evening if we ate dinner there), we went to the market and caught a taxi to the Papase'ea Sliding Rocks out of town. We managed to get a demonstration of how to survive these slick boulders that shoot you like a bullet into a pool below. (I'd been cautioned not to do it without watching several locals first.) We both survived with minor injuries (Sarah: very red thighs/butt, me: a pressure shot in the ears - quite pleasant for the upcoming flight).

We were also surprised by passing St Joseph's College on the way up to the rocks -- dad taught there during his Peace Corps time in Samoa. Our taxi driver took advantage of our enthusiasm and charged far more to come back to town than to go up, but in all, we came out okay on transportation. We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for gifts at the market, then picked up our bags before the visitor center closed at 5:00.

We enjoyed a breezy last evening in Apia. Two fautasi (45-person canoes) were practicing for the Tehuila Festival races in September, so we sat by the harbor and watched until sunset. Then we headed into Aggie's for dinner and to drop our bags until the 12:30am shuttle (not a bad deal). After dinner we laid down under the stars for a couple hours, down by the water where the canoes had landed. The perseid meteor shower was almost peak that night, though the Southern Cross wasn't visible yet for the clouds. After about 10:30 we were so groggy we decided the safest bet was to wait for the shuttle in Aggie's lobby, so we entertained ourselves with a little photo shoot project before the big flying canoe in the sky took us to New Zealand. (waka rererangi, the Māori word for airplane, literally translates as 'canoe flying in the sky')  

. . . and that is for another blog post!

samoa #1- Savai'i

Time to start the Samoan adventure! Albums for the two islands, Savai'i and 'Upolu, are to the right. It's been a lifetime dream to go to Samoa, where my dad served in the Peace Corps in '67-'68 (Western Samoa then). Growing up with siapo (tapa - bark cloth prints) in the house and my dad daily (rather nightly) in a lava lava (unisex sarong), I just had to see it for myself. With my sister's cheap winter ticket to New Zealand she could choose a free stopover, so naturally we chose Samoa and I decided to meet her. Though her stopover was only 3 days (she met me on the 11th) I spent a full week and went over to Savai'i (the big island) for the first three days.

I began my journey by boarding a jam-packed 8am holiday weekend ferry from Mulifanua wharf on 'Upolu, just after arriving around 6am Saturday. (Father's Day is a public holiday, with Monday off, and it just happened to be my Sat-Mon weekend in Savai'i.) It's a big struggle just to board, as a crowd like a european soccer mob is funneled down a narrow gauntlet about two-wide with ceiling high metal bars. Once aboard there's not a seat to be found unless you were one of the lucky first 100. I found a cool deck spot to stand the whole way (a slice of heaven compared to the return trip).

Upon arrival, it's another competition to board buses for other parts of island. I spotted the one I would go for from the ferry deck and joined the mob, working my way toward the front this time. I landed a spot on a bus to Manase on the north coast. I was travelling without reservations for the week, so just hoped for the best, seeing that Manase had a few fale options (rows of huts on the beach - Samoa's budget accomodation, but truly the BEST).

Samoa's buses are colorful old clunkers with wooden seats and blast Samoan pop music over big speakers on the boa-bordered dashboard. It makes the whole bus vibrate (drowning out the sound of the struggling motor) and they don't leave until they're abosolutely packed. Locals give up their seats for foreigners and everyone and their luggage is piled high on laps - four to a seat and dozens in the aisles. This is how we rode for the 1.5 hours to Manase! (yes, that's my forehead, I threw up the camera to sneak a quick shot)

I arrived in beautiful Manase before lunch and settled into my fale (check out the album for details). This was my favorite village, as the fales I stayed at were right in the middle of town and I met a bunch of locals on Father's day when I went to the special service and celebration at the church. 

I was even gifted my own lolly necklace, which I will pass on to my dad. I enjoyed ice cream at the big community dining fale before heading back to Salelologa the next day. Dinner and breakfast were included with my fale fee ($28/night), so I met the other guests, mostly kiwi + one aussie I would run into later in Apia. We had a great time, consumed plenty of Vailima (Samoa's "very own beer") and enjoyed the warm hospitality of the family running the fales. Sleeping in a fale is a dream, with the breeze filtering through the woven coconut-palm-frond blinds, which you raise and lower to your liking. I needed a week at this place alone, but alas, moved on.

Though no bus ever came on the holiday (locals thought ONE would come, at least to meet the ferry), I managed to flag down a passing van and tag on to a resort transfer back to the port of Salelologa. Chris, the driver, dropped me at Lusia's Lagoon fales after letting the ferry folks go and asked if I'd come with him to Afu-A-Au falls, his usual Sunday swim. (He tells his boss he's taking the long way around the island back and goes swimming instead every week.) I agreed and he picked me up a half hour later. We stopped at the fale at the head of the road to the falls where you usually pay a small admission fee (villages collect this because it's their property). But the guys in the fale let us know it was a new rule not to swim there on Sundays -- it's a special place and it was believed swimming there on Sundays caused the 2009 tsunami. The younger boys at the fale offered to show us another swimming hole down the road (a less influential spot, I guess), so they jumped in the van, and off I went to swim in some unknown jungle location with 3 strange Samoan boys.

Chris dropped me at Lusia's lagoon afterwards (but not before asking if I wanted a Samoan boyfriend). We'd discovered his SJC tatoo - the high school where my dad taught: St Joseph's College (St Jo's), so that was a fun connection. Lusia's had amazing fales on stilts over water, 'loosely' constructed with driftwood. I enjoyed stargazing from my deck (Perseid meteor shower) and a fantastic sunrise. That's the ferry coming to whisk me back to 'Upolu. . . but not before one last magical day on Savai'i!

On my final day I decided to climb Pulemelei Mound (aka Tia Sue ancient mound, but locals just call it the pyramid). It's the largest ancient platform structure in Polynesia - use unknown (view from on top - L). Continuing my taxi friendships, the driver who quoted 60 tala said, "for you, 20" when I got out. I credit our chat -- I got in the habit of sitting in the front seat and striking up good conversation with drivers, usually mentioning Dad and trying to pull out their expertise about the island (or learning they used to play rugby for auckland). An old plantation road forms 1/2 of the 3km track to the pyramid, then there's a bit a bush-whacking. A couple signs ensure you stay on track and a smart sign under a coconut tree warns not to linger in the shade (unless you want a big headache).-it just says WATCH OUT!

On the hike out I got to the stream crossing and noticed a guy with a machete on the other side. I walked up and talked to him, hoping that wasn't his method of collecting the admission to the pyramid (I had the tip to pay at Afu-A-Au falls fale, if anywhere). So, I kept the conversation to coconuts and left him, promising to give the guys at the fale some tala. That was just down the road. I greeted the guys at the fale (same ones from the day before) and started walking up a long road to the falls (now open - not Sunday).

This is the magical Afu-A-Au (aka Olemoe) Falls. Had a wonderful swim, jumped off that 10-ft rock you see at the right (all objects are larger than they appear), and thoroughly enjoyed floating about. Around noon I thought I'd better make tracks toward the ferry, since my "plan" was to catch some unidentified bus (hopefully existent, though), then pack up and walk to the port from the lagoon fales.

When I got out to the main road I lucked out and a bus came within 5 min. I hopped on and was soon offered the front seat between the driver and an older gentleman. We cruised down the road to the blasting tunes and I asked if I could be dropped at Lusia's after he unloaded at the ferry. He promised to, but we loitered at the ferry terminal forever, talking to his local friends, making change, buying food. Of course this was all fine with me when he jumped on the bus with a coconut for me with a straw in it - ah, lunch! Fresh coconut milk is divine! (note his strawless method, above, not to mention bus decorations)

I made it back to Lusia's with just enough time to throw my stuff in my pack and walk to the ferry (and take a pic with my new friends, coconut in hand - R). It was a madhouse - even more crowded than the way over. I waited for the masses to board before making my way down the gauntlet with my pack. But then the gates shut! (So this is why they push their way on.) I continued my laid-back approach to the trip and resolved to take the small ferry at 4pm. Soon after I sat down they reopened the gates (apparenly there is no limit to how many people they will take) and I got on. It was sweltering until we shoved off, almost an hour later. I found a small patch of floor in an aisle to sit on -- all seats and floor space were filled to the max. A woman named Sina shared her fan with me and during the crossing offered to take me home with her in Apia! Samoans are very open about inviting strangers into their home at no charge. I totally would have gone, but I had already confused the hostel in town so much (cancelling my first night, then rebooking to this night), I thought I'd better make good on my paid room (my only reservation since originally I was to arrive at 1am). Also, it was the meeting place for my sister and a bit late to change that with her already en route.

Sina was great, though, and got us on a packed bus to Apia no problem (I probably wouldn't have attempted it with all the people already hanging out the windows for lack of space). I was even allowed further back on the bus with a local pulling me along. Quite fun! She got off well before me, so it probably was wise not to be that far out of town.

That's it for Savai'i! 'Upolu adventures continue in next post . . .

northland

Just returned from a drenched few days in Northland (the arm of the north island stretching northwest from Auckland). I tacked on a couple days ahead of an Auckland conference and rented a car just to see how far north I could get. Though it had to be the wettest week ever, it aided me in making it all the way to Cape Reinga, not being distracted by dry sunny beaches along the way that are the culprit of the wayward vacationer to these parts.

This is Cape Reinga at the north tip of the north island where the Tasman Sea meets the south Pacific Ocean in a flurry of crashing waves and currents. There's even a color change in the water, not discernible above in my wind and water-soaked photo. Obviously I was the only one crazy enough to venture down the path to the lighthouse on the cape in this storm so had to take my own photo. But this became the theme of my loop north -- getting everything to myself (thanks to the foul weather). I drove up the east coast and down the west coast - weaving through ancient kauri forests and small coastal towns.

On the way north I was sure to hold it until Kawakawa, so I could have the privilege of relieving myself in the Hundertwasser toilets. Wow, it's been almost 20 years since seeing my first Hundertwasser in Germany -- I hadn't realized he passed much of his late life in New Zealand (1973-2000).

I did get a few hours of dry weather on the east coast. I hiked to the top of the hill in Matauri Bay where the memorial to the Rainbow Warrior stands (and had it all to myself). After the unrepairable damage from French secret service explosives that rocked the ship 25 years ago, it was decided to sink the vessel off a remote section of Northland coast, where it now provides a rich marine reef environment + popular dive site. 

Other sites on the east coast I explored: Waitangi (Bay of Islands + Treaty of Waitangi site), Matai Beach (Karikari Peninsula, where much of The Piano was filmed), and a good loop of being lost somewhere south of Whangarei. Occasional cows in the road slowed my journey to the northern tip a bit, but between that and the occasional rain-washed landslide into the road, I wasn't taking the driving too quickly anyway (though I am now an accomplished left-side driver). Below is the beach where I had my own personal landslide down a muddy path - change of clothes #1, day #1.

Not only was I drenched and disheveled outside the car, I also had my own personal interior waterfall when I pulled over in Omapere to take a photo of the enormous sand dunes across the harbour. A car whizzed by, plowing through a swimming pool-sized puddle next to my car and sent an ocean wave inside, soaking me (and everything in the front seat) completely. After an hour of nearly drying off, I got to the Waipoua Kauri Forest and soaked myself again hiking to the Kauri trees. But, I got these giants all to myself! Below is Te Matua Ngahere (the Father of the Forest) weighing in with a 16.4m girth - the widest living Kauri. He's not as tall as Tane Mahuta (51m), the 1,200-2,000-year-old Kauri regarded as the forest god, but Te Matua Ngahere seems in better health. These are very sensitive trees with shallow roots and these native forests have a rough road ahead with the many invasive species threatening their destruction.

I stayed in Kohukohu on the west coast my second night (after dropping in on a GP and nurse from Klamath Falls, OR in Kaitaia, north of Kohukohu). Kohukohu is on the Hokianga Harbour and retains many of the buildings of the early Pakeha settlement. My hostel was literally a tree house just out of town. It was fantastic -- got the whole 'dorm' building to myself, kitchen upstairs, outdoor bathrooms below. I started the next day bright & early, catching the car ferry across Hokianga Harbour. I took the indoor car wash soon after that, but did reward myself with a flat white to try to start the day off right again!

Other gems along the way were a few nifty museums: Scottish settlers at Waipu, the Dargaville Museum with it's amazing accordion collection and 25th anniversary tribute to the Rainbow Warrior, and the Kauri Museum with stories of ancient swamp kauri, gumdiggers and a crazy amount and variety of kauri gum objects.

Okay, I've squeezed as much as I can out of that accordion. I'm now on my way to Samoa for the week, where I will meet my sister Wednesday and we'll begin our adventure . . . will try my best to blog on the road!