Raglan

Day 114

The murder in Taupo seems to have made the front page of most of the National newspapers here. Probably back home by now too, as it was a Scottish girl on her way home from a night out. Some of the people that work at my hostel knew her.
Nasty business, and the killer/killers are still at large.
Least I won't be coming home from nights out with my enforced alcohol ban in place.

On a lighter note as I make my way to Raglan via Roturua and Hamilton, there were apparently plenty of celebrities to be spotted, all in town for the motor racing. Paris Hilton and Richard Branson included. Great!
I would rather the likes of Harold Bishop, John Craven or Bill Treacher.

Met a Canadian lady in the hostel. She was fascinated by Wales, and reckons she had Welsh ancestry. Hmm? Nice lady, and she ended up on the same bus I was getting to Roturua. She works in the film industry (I have asked her for a job and have her email so watch out for the next Bond) and knows all the stars. But Arnold, Bruce and Brad are just people.
She finds the filming locations, and has to look after them. The best story was when the special effects guys blew up someone's house. I liked that one, but she was not amused.
She is off to Hawaii next week and invited me there and to Vancouver. I'll have to fit that in between my visit to the Gwynfryn B&B in North Wales.
She flies out of Auckland airport on the same day as me so our paths might cross again.

So my mission was to get to Raglan and get involved in the surfing. Asked in the travel place in Taupo and he just laughed at me, saying I'd have to get a taxi. Bollocks to that Kiwi features I thought, and just grabbed the next bus to Roturua.
Would have stayed a night there but the travel dudes there were much more helpful and found me a route to Raglan via Hamilton, so I stayed all of an hour in Roturua.
Absolutely honked of egg anyway. Its a very active thermal area with more springs than a zebedee convention. Seen one seen them all, so moving on, hobo style.

Enjoyed Taupo and the hostel and people were very nice. Gained the nickname 'Welsh' in my short time there, from the girls in my room. It wasn't good for my health there anyway, as they seemed to have no problem walking round the room in just their underwear. Was very hot in there I suppose.
I didn't know where to look!

Spoilt for choice more than anything.

So after a cold shower, forcing my eyebrows back down to where they belong, searching for my eyes to place back in their sockets, and half an hour trying to remove a potentially permanent grin from my face, it was off for another bus or three. I am actually getting to know the drivers now. The latest one is called Brian, and tells the same jokes on every journey. They are all very jolly though, and like their tour bus like commentaries. I am now full of useless Kiwi based information. For example I can tell you exactly where to find the rare Blue Duck, and the names of 3 power stations.

Bloody hell I've arrived in paradise. Raglan beach and the sea ( coincidentally close by) look amazing. Llangenith would give it a run for its money, but the sun is shining here and not a breeze to be had.
I'm staying in hippyville. Suprisingly there is a shower. I thought my days of sleeping on trains were over, but my dorm is an old converted railway carriage sat on the hill overlooking the bay.
Hippies everywhere laying about doing nothing, as they do.
I could be good at that.

Met a German girl who was on the bus here, but she doesn't talk much and looks like Inspector Gadget. An Irish guy lent me his butter for my beans on toast so he's worth knowing. Also seen a guy with a Cardiff rugby top on wandering round the hippies shack. Bring it on. We shall be having words my son.
I'm will shout Jack Army in his face, while dancing like a nutter and shouting 'you scum bastard' in his face.
If he isn't amused then he ain't worth acquainting obviously.
Will wear my Swansea top and see if he makes the first move. There could be chaos; hippies scattering in all directions, shouting peace man, and getting their dreadlocks in a twist.
Can't wait.

The Irish guy I have discovered is called Donnel. Not Donald as everyone calls him. He fancied a trip into town, and when I told him I saw a band advertised called Blistering Tongue, in the boozer, he was well up for it.
So he drove us down there in his camper van. He wasn't drinking cause he was driving, and I am on my month off of the grog, so it was a bit strange.
However he gave in, and asked if I would drive his camper van back and he'd have some beers.
Cool.
The band were pretty shite, so we didn't really stay that long. Long enough for three cokes though. I must find another drink, as my guts felt like they were starting to boil after them. Beer would probably be better for me.
Drove his camper back fine, without hitting anything or anyone. I want one.

Stuff kayaking, surfing rules. Absolutely freaking loved it. Apparently Raglan is famous world over for its surf, but as usual I'd never heard of it.
My advanced training was with a guy that looked like John Mcenroe.
Serious.
There were only three of us, and the other two had done it all before so went off on their own, so I had Johnny boy as my personal trainer.
The wet suit left nothing to the imagination. Not quite Linford Christie, but who is.
You should have seen me go. The waves are a good size, the weather was perfect, and I swallowed more salt water than the passengers on the Titanic.

Its so addictive. Once you are standing up, flying along on that wave, you just want to go again. Took me awhile to get the full hang of it, but there I was looking like I was born on a surf board (maybe I was?). I outlasted the other two by an hour, as I didn't want to stop. Mcenroe was full of thumbs up and praise, and then had to drag me out of the drink, cause I really didn't want to go back. He asked me if I as part fish.
Yes John I am.

Aching a bit now, but all worth it. I am supposed to be heading to Auckland tomorrow to fly on the 22nd to Brisbane, but I am seriously considering staying another day here, hiring a surfboard and wet suit and spending all day hanging 10. I got all the techniques from Mcenroe's expert advice so I can go it alone now.
Just need global warming to hurry up and do its thing and I can spend all my days surfing the Gower when I get back.
Though knowing me the novelty will wear off, and it will be onto the next thing. Maybe I am just addicted to drinking salt water.
Kite surfing looks cool. You fly up in the air and everything.

Better go and hose down my wetsuit, and hang out with the hippies. Barbecue happening, so will get involved.
Rad.