Working life in
Auckland has felt so consuming of late that it’s become easy to forget that my
main motivation for moving to the other side of the planet (apart from the
missus, obviously) was to experience new people and places and explore sights
and scenery unique to this faraway isle. With a meager twenty days of annual
leave to escape the trials of The Office - and most of this year’s allocation
reserved for a trip back to the UK - I have been relying more than ever on
public holidays and their consequent long weekends for opportunities to travel
and tick off the ‘must sees’ from my indispensable Rough Guide to NZ.
This
year, we took full advantage of Easter to undertake one of the great Kiwi road
trips, from Auckland to Napier. While many of my plaudits in these blogs have
been reserved for the scenic grandeur of the South Island, large swathes of the
North have remained unexplored during my time here to date, and I was grateful
for the chance to spend three days in the Hawke’s Bay area over the
mood-brightening four day weekend.
As
is often the case in NZ, the journey there was every bit as intoxicating as the
destination. It was not a quick route though, and we spent much of Good Friday
on the road as we traveled, first, down through the Waikato and across to Lake
Taupo, and then down along the remote pass linking the Central North Island to
Napier on the east coast. The final two hours of the drive were carved through
thickly forested mountains, with vast stretches of wilderness broken only by
the occasional farm and roadside cabin. Emerging, at long last, into the Bay
was one of those classic awe-striking moments you never tire of in this
country, as the road opened up suddenly and a crystalline seascape surged
dazzlingly into view.
I
found Napier, the cultural heart of Hawke’s Bay, to be an intriguing place, one
quite unlike anywhere else I have visited in New Zealand. It has something of
the faded seaside glamour of the French towns that line the coast of the
northern Mediterranean, but its Art Deco buildings, designed in a statement of
the contemporary architectural zeitgeist after a devastating earthquake in the
1920s, can’t help but recall New York. In reality, Napier is not as hip or
happening as either, though our timing was unfortunate, our visit coinciding
not only with an Easter exodus of the locals, but some unusually dreary weather
too.
I was startled to learn on this trip that New Zealand
- surely one of the world’s most secular countries - has peculiarly strict
rules regarding alcohol consumption on days of religious festivity. Arriving as
dusk was falling on Good Friday, our plan had been to relieve tired car-stiff
bodies with a couple of drinks in a central pub before undertaking a recce of
the local eateries for dinner. Unfortunately, as we strolled through the muted
streets, we quickly discovered that most of the Rough Guide recommended establishments were closed,
and those that were open were not allowed to serve you booze without a meal to
accompany it. Consequently, we had little choice but to dine much earlier than
we would have liked, and at a restaurant that, were it not for the dearth of
options, we probably would have sidestepped on another night.
Despite the rain and rather subdued atmosphere, Napier
was not without its charms. The Art Deco facades, though small in scale
compared to their architypes across the Pacific, were fascinating to behold,
the uniformly stylized streets a novelty in a country that usually prides
itself on the diversity of its buildings. On Easter Saturday, which was
‘business as usual’ compared to the public holidays falling either side, we
were heartened to discover some decent eateries, highlighted by excellent
coffee and eggs benedict at the motley Ujazi café, and the modern strip of
waterfront bars and pubs in the trendy suburb of Ahuriri, which offsets an impassive
industrial skyline with pretty rows of moored yachts. The outlook
from the summit of one of the city’s highest hills afforded us a glorious
twilight view down over the freight shipping harbour, with the flickering
lights of distant ocean liners providing the only counterpoint to the dark
expanse of the Pacific.
For
me, the highlight of the trip was not Napier itself, but a day spent driving
through the surrounding countryside and visiting the many wineries that have
made the name of Hawke’s Bay an omnipresent in every British supermarket.
Dotted around a landscape of undulating valleys and steep ridges, the vineyards
and their accompanying facilities provided a visual as well as sensory feast.
Some of the architecture on display was very impressive, with more modern
structures of stone and glass demonstrating that the Art Deco isn’t the only
building style worth coming to the area for.
Of
course, the real test of quality is a winery’s alcoholic output and we were
delighted to discover that most of the estates offered free tastings,
suggesting a confidence that the majority of customers wouldn’t be able to
resist purchasing at least one full bottle. So it proved for us, but the wine
was of such a universal high standard that we struggled to select our
favourites and ended up making some quite random choices. Elephant Hill at Te
Awanga would be our special pick, with a fine selection of wines to be sampled in a modern setting perfectly attuned to the glorious views it offers
out over the surrounding hills and of the iconic Te Mata peak. If you’re not short on
time, I’d also recommend driving to the summit of the Peak itself, where you
can admire from on high the epic sprawl of the vine-mottled landscape.
Slinking
our way back to Napier after a day exploring the bucolic scenery around it, we
couldn’t resist a peek inside a roadside antique shop over-spilling with
flotsam and jetsam. What was most intriguing though was the proprietor, an
Englishman whose 40 years in New Zealand – so it transpired – had failed to
dull his thick cockney accent and East End market patter. This little reminder
of home in the most unlikely of places was enough to sway us to purchase a
tatty painting from him, though I think we both questioned its appeal once the
sentimentality had shaken off.
Back
in the town, we retired for a final night in Criterion Backpackers, a hostel
we’d chosen more because of its funky Art Deco stylings than the quality of its
rooms. In retrospect, this was something of an error, as ours was dull and
musty to the point of being disagreeable and some of the clientele lurking in
the communal areas made us feel less than comfortable. Still, it would be
churlish to criticize somewhere that unashamedly pitches itself as budget
accommodation and the management shouldn’t be held responsible for the
occasional oddball arriving through their doors.
The
weather and Easter shut-down meant we left Hawke’s Bay with somewhat mixed
feelings but there was enough left unexplored to warrant a return visit at some
point and I imagine in sunnier times Napier might just pull off the illusion of
a dreamy resort on the coast of Provence…
Jonny
