I knew I would be terrible at keeping up! I have been journaling and I'm behind on that too! I'm going to try and just give you some highlights. So let me remember...

Getting away from Auckland was, literally, a breath of fresh air. Apart from there being some sections of town in Auckland where there was jasmine growing in heaps along the fencing, and it smelled absolutely divine! I didn't write about it before but it's quite a big part of my memory of the city. The north country had other, mostly better, delights to offer us though.

We booked a b&b well-dubbed "private white sandy beach." It was truly one of the most happily situated places I've ever seen. There were a couple rental cabins, or baches as they call them here, along a small strip of beach located in a somewhat protected cove. They overlooked the serenely blue and turquoise ocean calmly beating against the shore. There was a very nearby uninhabited island and many more much further in the distance.

The first thing we did upon arriving (after meeting our very lovely hosts) was skip down the hillside to the shoreline. Upon the shore, not 6 feet from where we had entered, was the shape of a small bird on the sand. At first I didn't know if it was alive or dead, and as I approached I realized it was alive, although nearly motionless, and looked to be a baby penguin! I freaked out a little at this point, a) because it was soooo unbelievably cute and b) because I thought it was abandoned by it's mother and on its last leg. Frantic for a solution to this obvious and very serious dilemma but not knowing how to help without actually inflicting harm (remember the fate of the baby bison the tourists at Yellowstone put in the back of their SUV), I ran back up the hillside back to our hosts where I blurted statement-questions at them. They chuckled and told me rather unconvincingly, "I's just havin' a bit of a rest, ain't that right mate?" "It's toast for sure!" I thought to myself, my hope deflating like a needled balloon. Sensing my scepticism, they reassured me by telling me that it wasn't a baby after all, but a full grown blue penguin, and that they truly did come ashore periodically to rest or to escape predation. My spirits lifted, I thanked the gentlemen for their kind information and then ran back down the hillside to breathily inform Bobby that the penguin (which he had taken about a thousand pictures of by now) would most likely live (at least long enough for us to take about a thousand more).

Later that evening, as we were nestled in our quaint little shack, I read in a nature guide that blue penguins are the smallest species of penguin but, evidently, extremely tough little birds. They have been recorded diving to 50 meters deep in very cold ocean environments. As I fell asleep, Bobby asked me what I thought became of our buddy and I replied in my best kiwi accent, "He's swimmen aroun with es lil' friens, ain't that right mate?"

The rest of our time at the beach bach was spent exploring the extent of the shoreline in either direction and doing a bit of kayaking to explore the nearest island. Gannets were nested there and they made quite a good show for us, diving into the water from great heights to adeptly catch unsuspecting fish, as we dined on our patio every evening. One afternoon we crossed the southern hemisphere's longest bridged footpath (the sleepy town's one and only claim to fame) and the next we explored a different private beach a bit further up the coast, where we collected some good shells and witnessed a rainbow over the water. It was a peaceful time spent in a very peaceful place and we left with the hopes of possibly returning at the tail end of our trip.