We set off on Friday afternoon, but thanks to Aucklanders fleeing the city in droves (or maybe just trying to get home after a long week) it took us nearly two hours to get to the Bombay Hills: essentially the southern border of Auckland and the marker of the real start to any road trip. Not an auspicious start, especially since we then discovered we'd forgotten the "bach" keys back in Auckland. Doh! For anyone who hasn't travelled in NZ, a bach is essentially a holiday home...ranging from the most rustic cabins to luxurious homes. We'd rented one for the weekend. Thankfully a few phone calls sourced a spare key, and we were off again.
By now it was dark and COLD. Not good when my heated grips quit working. Thankfully, Mike my hero came to the rescue.
We rolled into the bach a little after 10pm. Oops, for those of us on restricted licenses, that meant we missed our curfew.
The next morning dawned sunny and warm. First stop: breakfast. Hardened travellers that we are (ha!) we've nicknamed ourselves the Latte Riders, since that seems to be what all this bike travel is really about.
Then off to the festival, where we dined on satay scallops and scallop wontons before we discovered a muttonbird hangi. We first read about muttonbird in a New Zealand travel guide while we were anchored in the Marquesas and continued to hear stories of it over our ham radio as we sailed across the Pacific Ocean. We've been waiting nine years to taste this culinary treat..."what amounts to a greasy seagull with a streak of trout." Scrummy!
The festival was all about food, wine, and good music. And especially a little time in the spring sunshine.
Apparently it was also about fancy dress.
Part 2 of the weekend was a return to the Lynch Stream/Sailors Grave trail. We ran here last year and couldn't resist a repeat performance. Xen and Mike opted for more lattes instead (see a pattern here?) so they dropped Shelaine and me off at the trail head and went off on their own cafe-scouting adventure.
Shelaine and I spent two hours jumping over roots, slogging up hills, and jumping the 40+ streams that crossed our path. Trail-running heaven.
And then it was time to head home. Travel by bike seems simple enough, but where does all this gear go? No wonder it takes us so long to get underway.
We had a little time up our sleeves and a narrow window of remaining sunshine, so we headed north up the peninsula and took the scenic ride home. Stunning views, but the rain socked in before we got the camera out.
But the eventual rain brought cheery rainbows to keep it beautiful.
Where to next?
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