Alex described New Zealand to his family as "like England on steroids" and there is some truth in this. The scenery is breathtaking - very lord of the rings-esque and the people are obsessed with jumping off things. However we were disspointed that we saw no sign of either a hobbit, or Bret or Jermaine. Not that we could appreciate the beauty of N.Z when we stepped off our plane from Japan. Neither of us had slept and had resorted to our revision diets of caffiene and sugar in an attempt to stay awake. this plan worked fantastically for the first hour or so, until we had to concentrate on what the lady in the hire van company was saying to us.

"Insurance...debit card...don't crash...bad..."

"Yeah sure..." Smile and nod.

We tried not to think about the implications to hard, and signed whatever she put in front of us. We were introduced to our campervan - our home and car for the next two weeks. they must have known Alex was coming as they gave us the van adorned with fart motifs.

1. "In life fart transmitters do better than fart recievers"
2. "Work hard, play hard, fart soft"

Having been holding out for the mystery machine, we were at first slightly disappointed. However we soon discovered just how bad Kiwi humour is, and our van and us became extremely popular with everyone we met. Old ladies stopped and laughed in the street, and we even found people taking photos of themselves with our van when we left it un-attended.

As you probably realise, we decided to hire a campervan for our N.Z leg. It was the size of...well...a white van. it was an ugly duckling - we learnt to love it. But first Fern had to learn to drive it. Having never driven an automatic before, or anything that big, it was a steep learning curve. We largely got away with it, with only a few unexpected windscreen washer uses, and only one small wall knocked over (don't worry we stacked it back up again and ran away before the owner had noticed). Having hired a van worked out well for Alex who spent his days juggling tasks of leaning out of the window admiring the breathtaking views, sipping cold(ish) beer and trying to read the map, occasionaly giving the right directions. We are so glad we hired a camper, as we soon found out, public transport in N.Z is utterly crap. And besides, it made a really nice change to just be able to go wherever we wanted whenever we wanted, without having to plan ourselves around a train timetable.

Eager to get out of the city, we headed north straight away to a place called goat-island. rather confusingly, there were no goats in sight but instead lots of fish. We donned wet-suits and snorkel gear and spent an afternoon swimming around the marine reserve, generally scaring fish. We even saw one of the legendary 3 old snappers, which inhabit the waters, who was the size of a spaniel (like momo georgia) wearing flippers. After spending an afternoon in our ridiculous bright blue wetsuits (the water was actually surprisingly cold) we drove a few miles up the coast to the most amazing beach - miles long and with only a couple of surfers on it. We sat there for the evening, chilling out and watching the sunset, and generally feeling pretty smug about the situation we had found ourselves in.

The next day Alex decided to make us drive 7 hours out of our way to see a giant tree. To be fair, it was an impressively large tree - one of the biggest trees in the world dont you know, and estimated to be around 2000 years old. We had planned to continue heading up north, but we hadn't counted on just how shockingly poor some of N.Z's roads are. From the accounts that we heard the far north wasn't that great anyway, not enough to justify another ten hours driving on gravel paths. So after a few quick forests walks and a lesson in N.Z's natural history, we headed back down south to Raglan - the legendary N.Z surf town, home to the longest left break in the world (whatever that means), we just pretended to look impressed when people told us. by this time Alex's hair had grown sufficiently long so he fit right in. A Canadian surfer dude we met at our eco-campsite agreed to take us out and show us the basics. Alex seemed to listen well in this intructional phase and was up on his board riding a wave for some distance on his first attempt. High fives and wahoos all round...well between Alex and the canadian at least who was suitably impressed. Fern was still working out which foot she wanted to put forward, a process which took a day to be resolved. being told that her right foot should be forwards, she tried, tirelessly to stand up on the board, before getting pissed off and swearing alot. The next day she ignored previous instruction and tried with her left. She got up on the first wave, but was so surprised, she fell off again after a few metres. But that was besides the point. Back at the campsite we were now fully integrated into the surfing community - we were surfers now. We spent the evening sinking a few bottles of wine (oh how we had missed it) whilst some of the residents broke out the acoustic guitars. it was a beautiful evening under the stars.

Next step: Waitomo, to see the caves, with a brief excursion to see a surreal angora rabbit shearing. Enough said. The caves themselves were home to thousands of glow worms (as seen on Planet Earth) which lit up the walls and ceiling with pale blue dots. Our next plan was inspired by the Belgians we'd met in Japan, the one's who'd haved Alex's photos. They told us that we had to climb Mt Doom (L.o.t.R's fame) and from that moment we knew it had to be done. This was no walk in the park. Every year a tourist loses their life attempting to reinact a scene from Lord of the Rings, an activity particularly dangerous during winter. Luckily for us, we were there in summer and had North Face jackets. What could possibly go wrong? The 6 hour walk was long and hard and steep. Fern considered turning around on numerous occasions, but the views at the top, a volcano and several sulphur lakes were, she had to admit, well worth the climb.

The next day, a little sunburnt, and bums aching from the walk, we took it easy in Taupo, checking out a waterfall and having a picnic next to the beautiful lake. Thermal springs soothed our sore spots in the evening. Nest stop Rotorua, a town that smells like eggy farts, due to the amount of thermal activity. It's quite literally built in the crater of a volcano and bubbling mud can be seen in the local park. We spent the morning in a maori village, which was a bit like a maori theme park, but still managed to teach something about maori culture and tradition (we were treated to a haka). That afternoon Alex decided to try his hand at white water rafting. Having no experience he opted for the most dangerous and difficult river, one that included going over a 7m waterfall (the highest raft-able in the world). To say it was incredible is an understatement and his group (which included some nutter who couldn't even swim) managed to survive the waterfall, raft still afloat. Not only was it a massive rush, but it occoured in a stunning rock and forrest canyon. Awesome.

Our final stop was Hot Water Beach - so called as a result of a freak of geology. At low tide hot water literally bubbles up out of the sand. We dug ourselves a fantastically structurally sound pit, and watched it fill up with thermal water. We wallowed away the afternoon. It was strange sight seeing loads of tourists floundering around on the beach, looking like seals. For a moment we questioned the sanity of humanity, but soon realised we didn't care as the water was just too relaxing.

So, a few thousand kilometres later, we returned to Auckland, having only seen one island of this beautiful country. We're already planning to return and see the supposedly even more beautiful south island.