Heading north to the Bay of Islands slowed the pace down, after a hectic night at the Australia vs Ireland match and the partying that followed!

We drove up the coast, taking a tiny car ferry that scared Joss (but what doesn't!), to Russell, a sleepy fishing town. Our campervan park had views out across the bay, and was conveniently located near a hotel with roaring log fire and very tasty fish and chips! The sun set was fabulous.

After a day of consolidation (doing laundry, checking emails and sitting in a coffee shop in the rain, writing postcards), we got back on the car ferry (really, it was more of a floating platform, chugging slowly across to the other side of the bay) and drove around the mouth of the bay to Paihia. Another small town in the Bay of Islands, Paihia boasts a lovely sandy beach, and is excellent for sea kayaking. The boys donned life jackets and kayaked out to a nearby island, capering around on the rocks when they landed and looking for buried treasure. They also took a two seater kayak out for a test run, having a wonderful time on the water. Feeling too lazy to join them, Joss lay on the beach in the sun and read her book - very content with the peace and quiet!

Pushing on further north up the scenic coastal roads, we made it to Ninety Mile Beach. This is not, as suggested, ninety miles long, though presumeably it was once! Closer to ninety kilometres, this vast stretch of rugged, wind swept coast is beautiful none the less; the kind of beach you could walk for hours on and not meet anyone coming the other way. We ate our sandwiches in the dunes, awe-struck by the endlessness of the beach and the moodiness of the clouds, whipped up by the waves. Returning to our van, much to the boys' amusement, we stumbled upon two Scandinavian girls running in to the FREEZING cold sea in tiny bikinis! Wrapped up in hoodies, scarves and coats, we had to admire their courage! (and I'm sure that's not all the boys were admiring...)

Another push north took us to Cape Reinga, the tip of the North Island and the point where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean. The crazy thing about this is that you can actually see the point where they meet; a series of whirlpools in an otherwise smooth sea. It's pretty awesome. After staring at this for a while, we walked out to the lighthouse on the most northerly patch of land in New Zealand. A handy sign post listed the distance to London, New York and Tokyo. A lone tree clings to the side of the rocks here, miraculously surviving aginst the odds of the crashing waves and vertical rock face where it has taken root. Mauri legend has it that this is where a warrior or maiden's soul comes when they die, after travelling north across the lands, leaving the island and crossing to the next life. The tree is sacred to the locals and no one is permitted to touch it, or to eat or drink near it. Cape Reinga was a long, long way from anywhere, but well worth the drive.

On our way back south towards civilisation, we stopped to see the Waipoua Kauri forest. Kauri trees used to be big business in New Zealand, used to build Mauri houses and by visiting sailors to build new boats. When more people settled on the land, most of the 1.2 hectares of kauri were cleared for farmland, but the ones in this forest are protected, and some have been standing for hundreds or even thousands of years. The largest kauri tree, Tane Mahuta is 51.5 metres tall and 13.77 metres in girth. Loads of endangered species live in the forest amongst the giant trees, including the North Island brown kiwi. There is a hushed calm in the forest, and the kauri trees tower so high it is impossible to photograph them in their entirety.

Our last stop in Northlands, was Whangarei, a small but bustling town on the east coast. Like most towns in New Zealand, the architecture and look of the place is nothing to write home about, but the surrounding scenery has lots to offer, with both waterfalls and caves near by. A friend of Paul's had taken him down into the caves a couple of weeks previously, before we arrived in New Zealand. There are no guided tours here, you just put your best walking shoes on, grab your head torch and hope for the best as you slither and climb down into the depths of the ground! Feeling slightly nervous about this, we went down never the less, led by Paul and his memory of which caves were dry and the best route in to them. He did a great job, leading us to a cave where we switched off our head torches and watched the glow worms twinkling - pretty amazing stuff. Feeling very glad that no earthquakes occured whilst we were undreground, we climbed and scrambled back up the wet rocks and out into the day light and back to the van for some well earned sandwiches and tea! It was a great experience and saved us a lot of money; there are some more well-known caves further south that you can pay hundreds of dollars to raft through or pot hole in, as part of a guided tour. Ours were totally free!

Next stop...Thames (unexpectedly...!) Tune in for the next episode of our blog to find out what happens next!