Rocking it on Niue

On a recent cruise up the North American coast to Alaska, my brother noted there were more whales on board the ship than in the sea.  Luckily for us, the reverse is true on our week on Niue and we see whales in the ocean most days, although it's fair to say some of the locals do carry quite some heft.

It's July and the humpback whales are migrating to warmer waters for a winter getaway and some fun in the sun.  They come into the bay outside our accommodation, wave a dorsal fin, blow a little spume, then show us their graceful butts as they dive deep again.

Also known as the Rock of Polynesia, Niue is a different little island. North east of Auckland by 2,400kms, the island is tiny -  260 sq kms, a raised coral atoll with its highest point just 69m above sea level. A lava shelf extends into the sea and then drops to a depth of about 30 metres. This extends about 200 metres or so then the outer reef drops very steeply to 2000 metres of very deep blue.  

Forget long sandy beaches, a hammock and sheltered lagoons - you have to take ocean paths and often need to climb down steps or ladders to get to the swimming and snorkelling spots on the rugged coastline.  Even then it is only possible at low tide as the swells rolling in hit the lava shelf pretty violently. The coast here is a slap up side the head rather than a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Makes you wonder why you'd come doesn't it?

mid tide with the reef becoming visible

There's sunshine and warm water, snorkelling, diving, fishing, swimming with dolphins and whales, exploring chasms and caves and rocky coves, and a very laid back vibe.  It doesn't attract lots of tourists, possibly because it lacks the requisite sandy beaches. Anyway there are only two flights a week so that limits numbers.  So exciting are flight days pretty much the whole population turns up at the airport and enjoys a picnic while waiting for the flight to land. There's not a lot of entertainment on the island.

Once a month a freighter brings supplies. The reef shelf means it can't dock at the wharf so it anchors off and a barge ferries containers to the wharf where they are winched ashore.  It's lucky for us our visit coincides with the freighter's arrival -  an hour or two of entertainment PLUS the supermarket will be resupplied!

the barge ferries two containers at a time

everything is winched ashore

As with all the Pacific Islands, everything is very relaxed and runs on "island time". That means the OPEN sign may mean open later, open sometimes, open only on Friday, or on rare  occasions, open right now.

Swanson's supermarket is the only game in town

 We pick up our rental on arrival at the airport and are told to come in to the office in Alofi (the main village) sometime during the week and pay.  No perusal of licences, flashing of cash or credit cards required at this point. One requirement is a local driver's licence but it's Friday, so we are told to call in to the Police station on Monday. The licence costs $22 and this is so clearly a money making exercise we decide only one of us needs one.  So it's pay up and come back later for the licence. 

Later, at 4:00pm, "we're just closing, come back tomorrow".  Tomorrow we get the licence, and chat to the Sergeant who admits that for an island of 1200 people a Police force of 14 is probably 10 too many.  You think??? There's not even any evidence of crime on the island.  Besides, everyone knows everyone else and where the hell are you going to hide? Or how are you going to get off the island? 

Usefully, the licence is valid for a year in New Zealand, so if you are high on demerit points it may be a good idea to pop up to Niue for a spare licence!

one road circumnavigates the island and a few more criss cross it

The island closes on Sunday and the place to go is the Washaway Cafe at Avatele, a sheltered bay on the southern end of the island.  An honesty system operates - a serve yourself outdoor bar, write your name and what you had in the book and pay before you leave.  I think they do great burgers, but as the place was packed there was an understandable and very relaxed long wait for it, and after several gin and tonics I could've been eating whale and wouldn't care.   

Rumour has it some people come to Niue and don't leave, or come back year after year because they fall in love with it.  After a week we are pretty relaxed and another few days or a week would be welcome. But all in all, there;'s something to be said for a sandy beach, a hammock and a sheltered lagoon. 

Hrvatska - land of my father - or in this case, my mother's father

In 2015, looking at the stunning scenery and peaceful (now!) life in Dalmatia, Croatia, it's hard to imagine why you'd leave for an unpredictable and unknown world in New Zealand.  Yet almost exactly 102 years ago that's what my Grandfather did as a teenager, leaving behind his family and everything familiar to arrive in New Zealand on the 13th July 1913. 

What was he thinking?  Probably that a life of predictable and known hardship was before him if he stayed.  

The rugged beauty of the landscape that we find so attractive limited (and still limits) Dalmatian life to subsistence farming along a thin strip of arable coast, a bit of grape growing and fishing. It hasn't escaped me that I've just described the h-g's ideal life - except for the subsistence bit. 

Along the coast between Split and Dubronvik

The drive down the coast was gobsmackingly beautiful. One picture perfect seaside town after another, all tucked in down from the road, with the massive mountainside looming up behind. Warm at 27 degrees, flat calm, and the ocean a deep navy blue.

But more of that in the next installment - for now we are in the north, a very different landscape.

We flew into Zadar, on the northern coast of Croatia, and drove north east to the most famous UNESCO World Heritage site you've never heard of - Plitvice Lakes National Park. 

The drive crosses the bony ridge of the Kapela range and links through a series of tunnels. When the Bora, a northern wind, is blowing the highway closes; the wind funnelling down the valleys has been known to blow cars off the road as they emerge from the calm of the tunnel to the smack of the wind. 

Of course, it's a windy day and Marija, as we have named our GPS know it all, seems unable to understand the road is closed and WE NEED THE DETOUR. In the end she and I have a major falling out and I shove her in the glove compartment until she can speak nicely again. 

We finally arrive, later than planned.....which turns out to be a blessing as bus hordes arrive in the early morning but are mostly gone by about 2 or 3 pm. 

Plitvice National Park - here we have 300 sq kilometres of park with 16 lakes connected by a series of waterfalls. Eight kilometres of lakes and waterfalls descend from 1,280 metres to just 380 metres.   A series of walkways, most of which would cause an Occupational Health and Safety inspector to have a fainting attack, descend along the falls and lead you along the edges of the lakes, 

While the walkway in the photo doesn't look busy, we'd at times find ourselves behind a busload of dawdling tourists, two or three abreast, taking up the narrow width of the walkway. The temptation to elbow them into the lake was sometimes quite overwhelming.

green trees, green foliage and green water - note the walkway snaking along the base of the waterfall

The flow varies from calm to raging, and as it had rained for a few days before out visit there were a lot of mini Niagaras.  At times the water was so high it was seeping up through the walkways, which was rather exciting, if dampening.

We planned to take the inland road south from Plitvice but you guessed it, somehow that bitch Marija had us back on the motorway.  As it happened the high winds had lessened and it was very cool traversing the mountains through the tunnels. 

We detoured off well north of Split and drove east to Vrlika, randomly chosen off the map we bought at a service stop - yes a paper map where you can see roads and towns and terrain, as opposed to a wiggly pink line on a matchbox sized screen. Sorry, Marija, but I love a good map.