Snaps on the Wairarapa (2018 Y7&8 Camp)

Day One:

The thrust pressed our backs against our chairs as we pulled up off the ground.  A buzz rose from the seats as the kids gripped onto their armrests.  Giggles flared up everywhere, and when the nose lifted, there was an eruption of laughter.  Lollies went around to soothe and comfort sore ears.  I glanced at little Miss - her first time flying. She peered down through a cloud, bellowing at the birds-eye view of her house, she pointed out Roscommon School. The noise faded as all eyes leered through large puffs of clouds.  Their expressions fixed in a moment none of them would ever forget.  They gazed in awe as the land fell out of sight. Landing was slightly rough, as it always was in Wellington, but worry of the hurling wind and a dark sky was lost in all the excitement.  

The mist seeped slowly into the hills as we climbed the Rimutaka.  A range that stood like a giant in a small garden.   Pines and Junipers, rooted deep in this mountain trailed to the peaks with monstrous postures.  I wondered if the dark clouds that hovered ahead would unleash, but they did not – just a light drizzle instead.  The steep winding roads crawled up into the hills like liquorice - each corner had it’s own silhouette, -a family of trees, a jagged rock edge, spindly grass and bushy shrubs of different reds and greens.  Our van glided smoothly over the tar-seal, embracing every swerve as the voices in the back seats sang cheerfully. 

 

Cape Palliser

The kids stirred in the van as we approached Cape Palliser.  The seals were close, apparently closer than usual.  They bathed like wet slabs of rock, unbothered by the eyes and voices that commanded their attention.  The girls in the back seats pressed up against the windows.  Their eyes wide, pointing and squealing with excitement, a first time sight for all of them. Matua Shane swears that his van load received a welcoming wave from an upright sitting seal.  Maybe Tangaroa sent his children to shore to powhiri our babies… who knows, I’d like to think that he did. 

With under an hour of sunlight left, we waved at the seals and made off toward the light house.  

The climb was not an easy one… speaking for myself.   I was relieved to reach the top and still see light over the ocean. A spectacular sight indeed. By then, everyone was ready to head down.  One photo with the whanau was worth every drawn out and painful step of that climb.  We were blessed to make it up and down again before the sky turned navy. 

Whare Ngawi opened her warm arms.  She glowed and steam floated above her chimney, which indicated she was warming something up.  The aroma of kai was on the air as we pulled up to her.  Excitement stirred again and the watering mouths behind me piled out of the van.  Janeen’s spread was worth the long drive. We devoured her hot cheesy trays of Lasagne with crispy salad and spongy rolls.  A slab of moist chocolate cake and fresh cream bought us all to our knees.  Kendyl graced us with her waiata about Ngawi,  and after a night of roaring laughter and fun, we hit the sack and when we opened our eyes, Whare Ngawi and Ma Walker had a selection prepped for breakfast.

A morning stroll across the road was refreshing.  Strange shapes and colors of seaweed lay across the black sands.  A tempered wind caused the waves to curl and break early.  The kid’s exercised their arms while skimming pebbles.  Another group embraced the surroundings as Mr. Televave jogged alongside them. I turned over a pile of seashells.  And just one glimmered in the light.  A beautiful paua shell. Tēnā koe e Ngāwi, tēnā koe Tangaroa.

 

Another slice of Paradise

The Pinnacles

We waved goodbye to Whare Ngawi. A sense of sadness fell over us as we watched her fade into the distance.  A trail of morning mist hovered over trees across the ocean and as we veered a couple of corners we arrived to Whatarangi Buff.  A family of cliffs wonderfully fashioned by earths oldest elements.  The same element that washed away part of Papa Toi’s bridge. 

 

We turned into the Pinnacles entrance.  The sun was low on the east rise.  I watched as the kids spilled out of the van onto the driveway.   I knew I’d need to good stretch to keep up with them.  The climb wasn’t as steep as Palliser, but 10 times the length at least.  Mr. Televave and Whaea Claudine lead the way, crunching through the dried river bed.  We appreciated the small bolders that were smoothed over by water.  We ducked and swished through fluffy toitois which added a nice touch to the prickly bushes and bladed grass. We zig zagged through, over and across a gentle running stream and in the last stretch I could hear the kids cheering me on. 

Almost to the end, just have to get there for the group photo. 

 

The giant cliff shoulders towered into the skies. They had long dreaded beards that fell like strands of rope into the ravine. Each one peered down from the overcast as if to greet us with their ancient rehearsed poses.   Nature had adorned them with entwining vines, dashing trees and shrubbery.  Some wore top hats, others posed under pointed peaks and overhangs.  Each of them gathered to the round table that was far too small. For a brief moment I’d forgotten how exhausted I was, and as I stood in the centre of the round table catching my breath, I raised my head in honour of these mighty kings, these majestic ancestors who made up the Pinnacles. 

Day 3: Castle Point

We slowed to 25km after dropping into a blue paradise.  Small but rough waves broke and slapped against the sand as we inhaled the playful breeze.  Across the way Castle Point lighthouse boasted beneath his green hat.  His white trunk glowed in the early afternoon sun.   Tangaroa wore a blue myriad coat with shades of aqua and hues of cobalt that accentuated the curved corals. A silver glistening spread over the surface as far as the eye could venture.  And in the crest, light wisps of clouds brushed over the creator’s hand drawn horizon. 

At the foot of the intricately designed hills, a moist sand was dotted with footprint trails and squiggles.  One group frolicked in the water, another dug holes and built castles while the rest basked in the golden rays. A rocky hill the colour of fawn protected us from the roaring waves that pummelled relentlessly at the jagged terrain on the other side. 

We moved 80metres further down the shore.  A small piece of paradise moved about under the watchful eye of a cliff.  It was shaped like an octopus whose long arms reached down into the waves that sprayed in the air. Every so often the sun threw out his rays and our browning skinned kids laughed, danced and pounced as each wave tossed them gently about. Hours pulled the tide out, and before long we were driving into the west setting sun that had splashed gold over the valleys.  

 

Te Aroha o Nukutaimemeha

The breeze carried the karanga across the atea. At the gates we shivered in the wind. The girls gathered at the front, the boys close behind. 

Lady Whakapapa

Worry stirred in the air as the smog hovered above. Red toned rocks dotted the land like biscuit crumbs. And from out of a stunning blue appeared the first of the snow capped greats. Her striking glow commanded attention. The snow draped around her shoulders and spread like a white silk gown. Her majestic persona graced the jagged terrain. All eyes stared in awe. 

A haze fell over the bus as they pulled into the last turn toward the mountain foot. The bus grunted all the way up and despite the quiet,  Whaea sensed the excitement. The door clanged open. Matua examined the road before he pressed his boot delicately to its icy tar. The rest followed clumsily after him, slipping and gripping on to each other. A group of girls cackled and squealed as they balanced skilfully. 

They crammed into the lifts with another group who were exchanged foreign words. The handful of toddlers amidst the foreigners stabbed their skis into the floor and chewed furiously on their gum. Matua gestured to his group to let the foreigners out first. 'Gee they look like professionals' whispered one of the girls. 

They pulled their boots on and snapped all the latches into place. Some of them twiddled nervously in their gloves, others stood upright and clunked their way towards to sliders where skiers from every ethnicity and of various levels awaited entry into the gates. They swiped their cards and the gates bleeped as Matua and Whaea lead their comrade to the designated spot. 

"I am your instructor for today" squealed a small framed woman. "First we gonna put on our ski's and you follow me please" Whaea though at the moment it was going to be a long morning. They could barely understand the instructors accent. 

The group followed the commands, like true foot soldiers. A couple branched off the track and requested to go it alone. Matua scanned his surroundings and pushed off the snow into the clearing. With bent knees and weight forward he executed his first glide before angling his skis inward  to perform the perfect stop. The small framed woman gave a pleasing nod and  belted out her final instruction. "Now have fun!" The group dispersed into the fields and weren't seen for the next 2 hours. 

Whaea sipped at her coffee up in the veranda. The fields were speckled with fluorescent dots. Some stagnant, others carving trails in the hills. As much as Whaea wanted to get on her skis, she knew that it had been less than a year since her knee replacement and thought it best to stay off it. 

She tried not to focus on her age, and how quickly time passes. It had been more than 15 years since she'd been on the snow. 

She watched the boys below preparing a supply of nicely packed snow balls. She had a good arm once.  

She smiled at the thought of the girls below, waiting for the instructor to look away, so they could get in a sneaky snow fight. She could see Matua up in the gondala and some of the boys on the lift heading toward the top. She breathed in the crispy air. The glare caused her to squint and for a moment she drifted off. 

"Whaea! Whaea!" The panicking voice jolted Whaea from her heavily rested state. "Tati got knocked out!" The sky suddenly appeared grey. Matua arrived at the site where a very apologetic ski guide was. Mrs Patea sent out a search to gather up the crew.  Tati lay in the snow, she'd been rammed by another learner, who happened to be 5 times her size. Whaea knelt down with her as the instructor called for the medics. At that moment a notice was sent out for the field to be evacuated. A snow storm was expected to hit the mountain within 2 hours. 

The medics were come, but rushing. Matua had rounded up the group and headed up toward the gate. The wind picked up and whaea could  

 

carved swerving trails. The van pulled away we looked back and stole one last glance. The great majesty slowly faded into the blue and her beautiful image forever ingrained in our memories. Thank you Mrs. Lunjevich for driving.

Te Taitokerau To The Top (My First Big Camp)

 

Day 1. After leaving Otaika, Whangarei where we had lunch, we carried on to Kawakawa and stopped in to see the world famous mosaic toilets designed by a German Artist. The sun smiled on us all the way to Waitangi. We arrived with an hour to spare so the kids grabbed a towel and hit the water. Being our first swim stop, we knew the kids would enjoy that...and they did.

We stood at the waharoa of Te Tii marae. It was nice and calm as we waited for the first karanga. It wasn't long before the formalities of our first powhiri for the day were under way. We entered the wharenui. The floor boards creaked gently beneath our feet. We were lead to the photos of those passed away before being seated. Mr. Televave spoke in his mother tongue. The rangatira of the marae closed his eyes as if to say "thank you for bringing the language of your ancestors." And when Quintin stood to mihi, the wharenui was humming. Each word clear and concise, each gesture strong and appropriate. Again the rangatira of the marae responded with proud expressions. Carolanne's soulful voice kicked in and on her cue each waiata rang out like a tui in full song.

Dinner was ready by the time our beds were made. A whanaunga of Whaea Leanne served Lasagne with green salad and graced us with an amazing homemade cheesecake. It only drizzled a little, however the temperature was cool and by the time the rain fell hard we were tucked up and snoring at Te Tii Marae. This was an unforgettable day for them.

Day 2. Morning drizzle turned to a short stint of downpour which drummed on the podium of Waitangi museum. We collected our activity clipboards and made our way into the entrance. The walls are mezene and polished granite. Inside the faces of the greats who fought and stood for the preservation and protection of our land glowed from glass frames down the hall. Miniature models of Aotearoa in her day enabled our kids to see a colonial environment. For the teachers it is an emotional walk as we know of the many injustices that eventuated in that time. Our rangatahi sensed that there was a great struggle, one that was more than what is taught today. Their questions were inquisitive and all were engaged. We watched a short clip of the signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi before moving up to the govt house.
By now the rain had settled and most clouds had cleared away.

The powhiri was amazing. Although it was a tourist version so it's tweaked to give our visitors a show, it was very entertaining. The talent of our people boasted in every corner of the Waitangi grounds. Carved master pieces, literate written pieces, art from harakeke and specially shaped tools to create the mounds and grooves of our history.

Ngatokimatawhaorua rests at the bottom of the hill. Thousands stroll along side in awe. Her intricate designs explored by thousands of hands every year. The taurapa stretched a few meters high and although she boards tangaroa once every year, she seems very much alive. We were given chalk and a paper so our rangatahi could choose a pattern to trace.

We had lunch outside the park before making our way toward Te Hapua. Kaeo was a fill up and lolly stop. The rain didn't fall until Kareponia. It pelted down at our arrival at Te Hapua, where our next powhiri began. Whaea Leanne stepped in teko because I distracted her and the only person cried out in silent laughter was Mr. Televave. Of course he had to comment about it being a landmark.

This time Curtis stood to represent us on the paepae and left yet another whānau in awe. We ate American-Samoan Hotdogs for avo snacks and Whaea Hera and Whaea Leanne's amazing pork bone boil up with fluffy fried bread slathered in butter for dinner.

Another unforgettable day.

Day 3. The roads were a challenge, but with expert feet like Whaea Leanne and Whaea Hera, safety was the utmost priority and once we hit the tar sealed road all butterflies had settled. Our kids were up before the sun and excitement buzzed in the air. The moment they'd all been waiting on had finally arrived. Rose and Dave explained the history of the sand dunes and the surrounding rohe, and how the sand settled in the North after an eruption in Rotorua more than a thousand years ago. After karakia we started on the smaller dunes. The sand was soft like flour, and looked like goldrush icecream that stretched out to a blue and silver horizon. We traveled like ants, on a mission to experience the great adrenalin rush. It wasn't long before we ventured onto the large dunes. Even all the teachers, and like adventurous kids they prepped their boards and skimmed the golden sands of Te Taitokerau. A cloud passing through opened a reign of wet bullets on us, but within minutes the sun was in town and stayed with us for the rest of the day. Of course we couldn't leave without a good collision. Poor Mrs. Malele came powering over the rise straight into Manaaki who'd been sitting up wiping sand from his eyes. 
Rerenga Wairua, the end of the earth where all spirits make their final journey back to Hawaikinui. Although we'd just spent 3 hours on the dunes, our energy levels were still high. From the bus to the tower it is approximately 700 meters. The stroll was lovely, the breeze was gentle, and the view was startling. At the bottom the waves threw themselves against the jagged rocky edges. It wasn't just a tower with the sea behind it, but a landmark surrounded by mother nature, the meeting of two oceans, the meeting of East and West, the meeting of spirits and even of the living. Our Rangatahi were interested in the stories of the spirits, Stories that I unfortunately had no knowledge of. Their questions included "Is Hawaikinui out there?, What do the spirits do? Is that where my Mum and Dad will go and what about me? How many spirits out there? Is it only for Maori? I suggested when we return to school, that can be part of our continued research.
This was truely a unique and spiritual place that only the great Master himself could created. 
Te Putaputa was our last swimming stop before heading back to Te Hapua. Whaea Hera walked along the steam side collecting maori rongoa. Our rangatahi flapped about in the wet sand before taking a long dip. When the sun moved beyond the hills, we packed up and made our way back to Te Hapua where the aroma of hangi filled the air. It was a clear night sky and all eyes were closed by 10pm. 

Day 4. Out to the West.

The morning came in on a crispy breeze. The dining room echoed with drumming feet and laughter spilled out of the kitchen. Trifle and cream for breakfast, or hangi, fried bread or smoked fish was offered to further tickle our fancies. After clean up we took a stroll up to Te Hapua School. It seemed appropriate to visit in full school uniform. Once again our roopu represented our all the values of our school. Te Hapua does not have free and ample access to wifi like our kids do, so we appreciated the different learning environment they have to us. What is important to a country school student is being land savvy, harvesting their own kai and diving for kai moana, swimming for exercise and getting about on horse. Time was of the essence so after 20 minutes we waved our goodbyes and as we headed toward the wild wild west, a family of horses clopped ahead of us as if to usher us out of this humble town of only 150.
The rain followed up until Ahipara where the sky was baby blue and the waves slapped along the shore. We scoffed into our ham rolls. Some of our boys hit the water with Mrs. Patea and Mr. Televave, the rest chilled on shore with Mrs. Malele while Whaea Hera checked out the tuatua spots. The beauty of Ahipara, forever in our minds.
Pawarenga is a paradise tucked away in a Western valley. Surrounded by lush green mountains and myriad of mangroves, it was stunning portrait of an untouched haven.
We couldn't leave without visiting Whaea Hera's church. Wonderfully built with historical character and fresh paint, this was a must see. Inside the church the rays transcended coloured beams that spilled over the pews. Down the hill a couple of local kids pranced around on horses. Their smiley faces recognised us city slickers and they flicked their eyebrows to greet us. Whaea Hera received hugs left right and centre and as we drove out of Pawarenga, I could feel her love for her hau kainga, her whenua, her iwi, her whanau, deeply rooted in her heart.
We arrived at the ferry with time to spare for a couple of shots. A 15 minute ride across to Rawene set us on a 20 minute drive to Pakanae where Mrs. Lunjevich and Papa Scotty had dinner in the oven. The scenery was spectacular. Another haven, lush, unspoilt and natural. The karanga travel in waves, from manuhiri to tangata whenua again and again. Words and greetings of love were shared. Tight hugs were exchanged. Papa Scotty and his family stood proud and humble as did we. The dinner tables were laid with Sheppie pie mince, veges, roasted kumara and potatoes along with Apple cake pudding and icecream. This was a beautiful end to an awesome day.
Day 5. On the Homestretch. 

Another crispy morning under shy greyed clouds. The weather gods looked down on us for the rain only drummed when we were dry in our vans. Mrs. Lunjevich took care of our breakfast with the garden to table crew. Juicy fried sausages, tender smoked fish, Toast and fresh pancakes with cream. After clean up we met in the wharenui. All eyes were wide and teary as Whaea Hera gave her beautiful whakapapa from the top of the North and around the motu. Mrs. Patea thanked Papa Scotty and the tangata whenua for opening their doors for our babies. We sang, we cried, we laughed, we hugged and left the final marae of our Kiwi camp tour. 
 Around the corner an intimate treasure called Opononi. Our stay was only minutes and it was as if we needed another week to soak in its natural beauty. 
 We arrived to Tanemahuta. The rain was still holding back for us, and unfortunately, we couldn't go in to see Tane. We entered further up to visit 'the three sisters". Grand and Mighty they stood. Each commanding your complete attention. 
 In less than an hour we'd gone through a couple of small towns, including Kaihu where we parked up to mihi to Whaea Leanne's mum. 
The kauri museum was amazing. Like the Waitangi museum, it was rich with New Zealand Heritage and treasures. The guides came down stairs to listen to Mr. Televave play a tune on the piano. Our kids were really well behaved and it was lovely to see them appreciating ancient NZ artefacts. 

The ride home was smooth and we didn't have any traffic to contend with (until we reached Auckland Harbour). The sights were incredible, the marae were welcoming and most of all, our kids were able to bond, share their experience with each other and know the importance of holding onto our traditional ways, following our tikanga, ensuring to karakia at the appropriate times and respect the lands that were given to us. As kaitiaki and ambassadors of land and te reo, this haerenga has only enhanced each one's identity. And that's what it has always been about. Kia ora Whaea Hera and Leanne for planning out our trip and all the pouako who'd woven all the outside seams to ensure my kids had the experience of a lifetime. ·