It was so exciting to get on the road this morning, leaving the buzz of Auckland behind for our first proper road trip day. We just love the freedom of a road trip, and as we finally cleared the city’s southern suburbs, the landscape opened up into the green, hilly countryside I’d been picturing. The traffic heading into the city was choc a bloc, so we were definitely glad to be going the other way! I spent a while trying to figure out why the scenery felt so different from a country drive back home in Australia, and then it hit me – there wasn’t a single gum tree in sight. Of course, that’s not surprising, but it was a funny little reminder that we were indeed in a different country, even if it feels so familiar. Another reminder were some of the decorative Maori signposts that we saw along the way.
Thinking about plants was a good warm-up for our first stop: the Hamilton Gardens. I’d read online that they’re consistently ranked as one of the top attractions in New Zealand, which seemed like a bold claim, but I have to say, they really lived up to the hype. I thought we might spend an hour there, but we were so captivated that it was almost two hours before we left. The concept is brilliant – a series of 18 enclosed gardens, each transporting you to a different place and time. We meandered through a Chinese Scholars Garden with its pretty red pagoda and bamboo forest, and then suddenly we were in an Italian Renaissance garden, full of terracotta pots, which instantly brought back memories of our time on the Amalfi Coast. There was a grand Tudor garden complete with a tiny manor and a low box maze, and an Ancient Egyptian garden that made you feel like you were walking in the footsteps of the Pharaohs. My favourite, though, was the Mansfield garden, which was inspired by Katherine Mansfield’s famous short story “The Garden Party”. The story is set in colonial Wellington, and begins with a marquee being established on the tennis court with a feast laid out for the party. The whole thing, tennis court and all was laid out in one of the garden “rooms”, and the main “room” showcased the mansion itself with a Model T Ford parked out front.
We were lucky with the weather at the gardens, only getting a sprinkle or two of rain. But not long after we left, the heavens opened in a proper downpour. The drive wound through more pretty green countryside dotted with dairy farms, and we pulled into the car park for the Waitomo Glowworm Caves with plenty of time before our booked tour. I’ve wanted to see New Zealand’s famous glow worms for years, so this was one of the very first things I booked for this trip. We grabbed a light lunch of sausage rolls and coffee at the café – much better coffee than the dodgy brew we’d had at breakfast! – before joining our tour group.
Our Maori guide, a lovely young guy named Tummi, led our small group of twelve into the cave. He was quite the character, pointing to a massive fallen rock and telling us with a straight face that it had fallen just three weeks ago! After a few indrawn breaths from the group, he grinned and admitted it was probably closer to 300 years ago. As we walked, he explained the glowworms’ life cycle. What we call a glowworm isn’t a worm at all, but the larval stage of a fungus gnat. The larva spins a silk nest in the cave ceiling and hangs down dozens of sticky threads, like little fishing lines. It then uses its glowing tail light to attract other insects, which get trapped in the sticky lines for the larva to eat. This larval stage lasts for many months before it becomes a pupa and finally emerges as an adult fly that lives for only a few days, just long enough to mate.
Finally, we climbed into a small boat to float quietly along the underground river. Tummi expertly pulled us along using a series of overhead ropes, as noise can disturb the glowworms. And then we saw them. Thousands upon thousands of tiny lights twinkling on the cave ceiling above us, just like a starry night sky. It was such a pretty, magical sight. The only frustrating part was that photography isn’t allowed inside the cave to protect the worms, so I’ll just have to hope the memory of that silent, sparkling drift through the dark is one I won’t forget. ( Of course, the magic of modern photography meant that we could purchase a shot of us with the glowworms in the gift shop! And of course I couldn’t resist that !)
We’d managed to dodge another downpour while we were underground. The trees were dripping heavily as we blinked our way back into the daylight and headed for our last stop, the little town of Ōtorohanga. It’s New Zealand’s self-proclaimed ‘kiwiana’ town, celebrating the country’s quirky popular culture and icons. We had a wander through the Ed Hillary Walkway, but the funniest part was the public toilets, which are covered in all the traditional and slang Kiwi names for a loo – Bog, Loo, The Throne, and more. I can’t say I’ve ever taken photos of a public toilet before, and I’m pretty sure the man waiting outside for his wife thought we were a bit crazy!
From there it was just another hour’s drive to Cambridge and our hotel for the night. Most of the drive was spent stuck behind a huge lumber truck that kicked up so much spray in the rain it made for slow going, so we were glad to finally check in to the Hidden Lakes Hotel. It’s a lovely new place, but the name is a bit of a laugh – our room overlooks the reserve, but you can’t see the lake at all! For dinner, we found another great brewpub, the Good Union. Neil got to sample some local craft beer, and my Tuscan Chicken was genuinely one of the best meals I’ve had in ages. It was a fantastic end to the day.
Tomorrow, I am sooooo excited. We’re off to Hobbiton!