Rangitoto Island

A second breakfast prepared me for the day; a feast of whitebait fritters and Bercher muesli washed down with a large latte. I'd woken up at midnight, Auckland time, just short of the international dateline and had enjoyed an earlier airborne breakfast. Arrival in Auckland was pretty much like the rest of Air New Zealand journey, perfect. It helped at customs that I had no biohazards; not fruit, meat or other contraband - the dog and the xray checked for guilt and found me innocent.

I was at the hotel by six and took a two hour nap. I'd thought about where to walk and Rangitoto was at the top of my list and stayed there after I asked an Aucklander on the plane for ideas.

I checked the forecast in the paper over breakfast which confirmed what I'd seen out my window - a glorious day was there for the walking.

I then wasted ten minutes trying to get my iPhone to recognise this wasn't Kansas. This would frustrate me for hours because it meant no email (good) nor GPS and therefore WalkMeter wouldn't map my walk (bad). Then I was auto-switched from 2degrees to the VodaNZ network and it all worked (including email I couldn't read in bright sunlight) - notes to self, blacklist 2degrees, question what the GPS needed from 2degrees.

I walked down through Albert Park to Queen Street and bought a ferry ticket. When does it go? One minute ago, she said, run! Ideal, they waited for me.

The Fuller's ferry ride was about thirty minutes among a babel of languages that surprised me. Italian, French, Polish, Japanese and many unfamiliar ones added to the wealth of US, Oz and Kiwi accents. The ferry captain told us sightseer stories along the way. There's the wharf where they are setting up for the World Rally Championship event. We look at the cranes that handled 1000 ships a year turning them around in 18 hours. We see mudcreting in action reclaiming harbour land. There's the arena that hosts a show a week including rock acts like Spandau Ballet (with which he undermines his attempts to cast NZ as a world hub - only rock pension tours will visit?). Here's where the Greenpeace Rainbow Warrior was sunk by the French - I looked around to see how the French were taking it but a few 'heys' while ordering tea suggested they were Canadian.

We landed at Rangitoto wharf where the black volcanic excreta complimented the horizon ringed with volcano cones. I knew the Hauraki Gulf was riddlled with eruptions but knowing Rangitoto was only 600 years old made me question owning property around Auckland.

I took off left and east detouring off to see Kowhai trees and Kidney ferns, passing several preserved 1930's holiday shacks, oddly discordant on what's now a protected and uninhabited island. I went down to see no colonies of seabirds at Flax point, I guess they were off fishing. I walked on for over an hour to McKenzie Bay, passing through mangroves and forests of Pohutakawa trees, the latter making me jealous because I wanted the lichen draped look for my front garden. I thought about how exotic this was - is there such a word as 'inotic' - from heavy spring blossoms surrounded by lush green pastures (inotic to me) to a new volcanic island overgrown with exotic botanical spendour. Fuller's flyer calls it a botanical gem. There are few birds, the lack of water being a problem, the bush strangely quiet. I did spend some time watching one magnificent Tui who called himself to my attention, irridescent green with his purple shoulders and the white tufts on his chest that look like he's blowing bubble gum from his crop - perhaps occupying the magpie's niche.

The walk up to the summit was harder than a 300 m ascent should be; the 26 hour journey and 11 hour time difference took their toll. At one point on Wilson's Park Track, I dropped my glasses. I had pushed them up to get a better look at the camera view finder. Somehow, I forgot about them until I found it hard to walk across a rock field, the rocks being strangely indistinct. Good old jet lag I thought. Then panic as I realised their loss was a disaster. They must have been swept off my forehead by the flax and undergrowth. Twenty minutes of backtracking and decidely fuzzy searching finally revealed them at the site of my last photograph. Let me just note that I was seriously relieved since I had decided not to bring a spare pair for the first time ever.

The final climb to the summit took my breath away - not the view, which was indeed fantastic but the fact that volcanic cones are steepest at the top. The 360 degree view was perfect for spotting Japanese invaders and the old radar and gun emplacement structures underlined the insecurities of global war. While the Japanese tourists snapped away, I wondered if they understood.

I headed off down the boardwalk, my hamstrings no longer resonating like violin strings. Then across towards Islington Bay Wharf. As much as I wanted to see whatever was the controlled mine base south of Yankee Wharf, I was concerned that a twisted ankle or other minor injury would be just enough to make me miss the last ferry at 4. So I cut back down the main road (unsealed) to Rangitoto wharf where I watched fantails, black billed gulls and terns. The fantails were amazing. One followed me, circling me just at arms length, flitting like a flycatcher, fearless as it fed on whatever insects I disturbed. Two black oystercatchers, Toreapango to those who know them, provided great photo-opportunities for my big lens.

I re-hydrated and snacked as I read posters at the wharf about the war against the possum and the wallaby that ended with their defeat in 1999. Their pestulant population threatened the Christmas-time red blossoming of the Puhutakawa trees so they were annihilated. It read with a brutality that jarred me. Sure, I understand the need for control but somehow this left me cold - perhaps I'd have felt different if the trees were in bloom.

Another thought was about Darwin - finch beaks on the Galapagos are not the only proof of evolution. The rate of hydridisation here has been extraordinary.

The ferry that came at 4 was bigger than the one we had taken earlier but still too small to take all the day trippers off the island. I waited the extra thirty minutes for an ad hoc ferry to collect the rest of us, a chill wind reminding me that it's autumn here.

I took advantage of the hotel facilties and enjoyed the sauna and steam rooms to help my recovery. I may have only walked 20 km in my excursion but it took a lot out of me. Which was the point really; jet lag mitigation by pretending it doesn't exist.

Thank you Chris, Rosie, Patrick & Kate!