Out of Auckland - Into the Fun

Day 11

Finally out of Auckland. Nothing against Auckland, the largest city in New Zealand has its charms. Especially the surrounding areas, which we unfortunately rarely had the chance to explore, are incredibly diverse and symbolic of the variety that New Zealand has to offer. However, for us, Auckland was nothing more than the beginning and the creation of all the prerequisites for our journey, and therefore actually a week of bureaucracy, planning, and rushing around. Up Queen Street, down Queen Street (the hilly streets are reminiscent of San Francisco), back and forth from the Vodafone shop to insurance, to the tax office, to various car dealers. Speaking of cars. We have one now. And it's a wonderful 1992 Toyota campervan, in which we will be sleeping and living for the next 3 months.

And now for the first anecdote, which I really can't keep from anyone.

So, on Friday, we bought this car, and of course, we were extremely proud and happy that everything worked out on the second attempt. We drove out of Auckland, both of us extremely tense, dragging an old, new car through Auckland's rush hour traffic on the left side of the road ("WHERE DO I HAVE TO GO" - "LEFT!" - "LEFT NOW?") and found the first camping spot outside the city. Since we have a self-contained campervan with its own sink and a foldable toilet, we have the privilege of staying in camping grounds, which are usually just parking lots but located in the most beautiful corners and in the middle of nature. And that's exactly what this place was like. So, we arrived there, surrounded by breathtaking nature and would really have every reason to be completely happy. If it wasn't for the brake lights. They didn't turn off when we got out of the car to take a look around. So, there we were. 7:00 pm, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, alone in a parking lot in the New Zealand jungle, without cell phone service, without the prospect of civilization, but with broken brake lights and on track to buy a new battery tomorrow because the lights would be on all night.

Seemingly hopeless. You might think. If it weren't for the helpful Kiwis.

Linus said he would see if anyone lived here who might have cell phone service, and 20 minutes later he returned in the car of a man in his late thirties who wasted the following 90 minutes of his life just to help us clueless and embarrassingly naive German teenagers. He screwed, and groaned, and puzzled until all the lights were temporarily off and we could set up our beds in complete darkness at 9:30 pm and go to sleep in peace. He then recommended a workshop in town that we could go to tomorrow to finally fix the problem.

When we showed up at the "workshop" at 8:00 am the next day, we realized, when we asked at the gas station next door if the workshop was open today and the employee just said that John would come, that we were in very good hands here. After more tinkering and four hours later, the problem was actually solved, and we could head to the next camping ground.

This one was in Whakatane, right on a stunning, deserted beach. However, dinner consisted only of bread rolls because we bought the wrong gas for our gas stove. The breakfast the next day, which is today, looked much better with peanut butter toast and cocoa under a cloudless sky, sitting in our camping chairs with a view of the wonderfully sparkling Pacific. After that, Linus cut my hair and now I'm bald. At least that's what I always say, it's actually 9mm. But it's definitely practical for a trip like this. After a three-hour drive through the incredible flora of the "Bay of Plenty," we arrived in Tauranga earlier, one of the larger cities in New Zealand with a population of 120,000. Here, the goal was to secure our first job in order to earn some money again. So, we went to the address from the job ad and ended up at a hostel that arranges jobs in the Tauranga area. We would start tomorrow morning and work on a kiwi farm for two weeks. We could sleep in our car. The only condition for the deal was that we would have to spend one night in this hostel because the hostel and the job agency somehow cooperate. We both don't really understand it. Well, they say you shouldn't think too much, just do.

At least we're sitting here now in this hostel on a sofa in the common room and writing. It's 9:05 pm. An eight-bed room awaits us. For me, it's the first night in such a hostel, for Linus, it's nothing new after two Interrail experiences.

Starting tomorrow, we'll be working six days a week, 8 to 10 hours a day on this farm, and as far as I know, we won't have to do anything else but open the buds of the plants all the time so that they can bear fruit in the summer.

It will definitely be tough. It's possible that during this time, I won't have internet, making it difficult to upload entries. So, it's hard to say when I'll be able to get in touch again. Until then, I'll be earning money.

And sharing a room with Linus and 6 other travelers. It's 9:15 pm. I'll go shower and then sleep. It's going to be an early morning tomorrow!