Week 4: With Liz and Mike in Kuaotunu and Whitianga

Then I made my way to the Coromandel Peninsula, where I had found a new home with Liz and Mike in Whitianga and Kuaotunu. Public transportation in New Zealand is extremely scarce. So I booked a bus for half of the journey and had to hitchhike the rest. Luckily. Because that's how I met Ryan. He was on his way from Hamilton to Whitianga, where he owned a vacation home. He was a tradesman, half Maori, the owner of 4 kindergartens with his wife, and an extremely warm and funny person - at least that's what I could gather from our brief encounter. We were in conversation the whole 1 ½ hours of the car ride, although he did most of the talking and I maybe understood about 1/3 of it. But somehow we still got along splendidly. He even took me to his vacation home, which overwhelmed me to the max. It was a huge villa with a fascinating view of Whitianga. We arrived there around 1pm. Until then, I hadn't eaten anything yet, as I was somehow nervous about the day with the drive, hitchhiking, and getting to know the new hosts. And then he even invited me for a beer, even though I had been fasting from alcohol for 2 months up to that point. But I couldn't turn it down. On the one hand, because I felt it would be impolite in that moment, and on the other hand, I didn't want to reveal myself as a complete prude after we had previously talked about festivals and drum and bass. After the second beer, I confessed to him that I hadn't eaten anything yet and that I didn't want to meet my new hosts with a heavy breath and slurred speech. He just laughed, opened another beer, and handed it to me. Internally, I raised a toast to my stability and discipline. After his 4th beer, he drove me to the meeting point where I met Liz and Mike. They came with a caravan and an electric car, both from the older generation and made a very decent impression at first sight. I rode with Liz in the electric car and told her the story of Ryan, my 3 beers, breaking my fast, and apologized for the potential beer breath. She smiled a bit awkwardly. At that moment, I would have liked to know what she thought of me, the long-haired, wild-looking, and beer-smelling hippie whom she was just taking to her place.

We then drove to their 2 vacation apartments right by the sea. They lived in one and I lived in the other. I had to trim hedges, pull some weeds, prune plants, dig a small water ditch, and mow the edges of the garden. It was heavenly. 4 hours of easy work, 3 delicious meals, and a breathtaking beach right in front of me. Then Mike's sister and brother-in-law, a passionate angler, also lived in the neighborhood, and he invited me on a fishing trip. We had visited them briefly before, and he had a majestic marlin head hanging in his living room, which he had caught himself (from an aesthetic point of view, hideous, but from an angler's point of view, it earned him a lot of respect and fame). I already imagined us going far out to sea and hunting for really big fish. He picked me up in the morning, and his buddy was also with us. The first experience was when we arrived at the parking lot and he extended the boat's wheels and then we drove the boat off the trailer and across the land into the water. First, they checked the catch boxes, which they wanted to use to catch crayfish. But they were empty. And we didn't go far out to sea, just to the next bay and fished for snapper there. A slightly smaller predatory fish that could also grow up to a meter. Unfortunately, it wasn't a good day and only his buddy caught an undersized snapper and one that just met the minimum size. But Mike prepared his fishing rod for me, and one day I caught an octopus from the beach, and on another day a snapper. My heart bled with pity as I reluctantly killed the octopus and took it with me. Just a few days earlier, I had been at the Buddhist center, where killing any animals was forbidden because it could be a reincarnation of someone, and I refrained from killing spiders, mosquitoes, and beetles (I sinned once when I reflexively killed a mosquito), and now this! Once again, I pondered my values and integrity. But a day later, when I killed the snapper, all doubts were gone again, and I enjoyed the success (which didn't improve my self-doubts). While the snapper tasted like a good seafood should, the octopus was less appealing to connoisseurs. Liz and Mike couldn't even eat a bite. Sole of an old shoe with a fisherman boat flavor came closest in taste and texture. In honor of the octopus and as a punishment for my fishing greed, I ate it alone over 2 days... with lots of mayonnaise.

After 4 days, we then went to their actual apartment, as the vacation apartments were being rented out. We slept together for one night, and then they had to go to a doctor's appointment in Auckland, where they left me alone for 2 days. The apartment was part of a resort owned by mega-rich people. On one side of the apartment, there was a garage and parking space for vehicles, and on the other side, there was a jetty with a boat or a yacht. In addition, there was a swimming pool, a hot tub with warm water, and a tennis court that could be used. Not my world, but it was nice to see it. What I admired even more was Liz and Mike. Mike came from a farming family and worked hard all his life. He earned his first farm by going on possum hunts. The cute animals, highly valued in Australia, are a pest in New Zealand and are guilty for the extinction of many bird species. He took down between 100-160 animals a day and sold the cases. It was a tough job, but it made him a big earner. He bought the farm, built it up, and then sold it again and bought a new one, which he also fixed up and then sold for profit. He did the same with a campground, which is why he's now well off but still human. Liz was more the hippie woman and traveled around a lot with her husband at the time, who later died of cancer, and tried to spend as little money as possible. Both of them are absolutely warm-hearted people and have a huge family that stretches across Australia and Bali, and they stay in close contact with everyone. All their stories would be too much for now, but I am very grateful for this encounter as well and it showed me that wealthy people can also have a very big, trusting, and warm heart.

From Whitianga, I took a bike tour to Hotwater Beach and Cathedral Cove. Two major attractions that are advertised as must-dos in every travel guide. I had already been there with Vampy and Säckn at the time. It was nice, but not overwhelming. The same feeling arose again during the second visit. Actually rather restless places, as so many people trample on each other's feet that you can't really let nature take effect anymore.