Hamilton Circuit

It is the first of August. Since January I have set myself a monthly target of 1000 kilometres with the motorbike and I have easily exceeded that, and was at 12,209 km on the 31st July. To self-justify; I sold my Kawasaki ZZR 400 in May 2007, and then lived in England and New Zealand. I had no motorbike until I sold my house to move to Hamilton and to be closer to my little son. I am not poor, but my teacher salary is laughable when compared to the price of housing. (I live in hope of either a 50 or 75% housing price fall or a 50% to 75% salary rise for teachers!) I invested my money, which has not been such a great decision, but used some to buy a motorbike, a Suzuki 650cc V-Strom.

Since December I have been improving my biking skills, enjoying my rides out, and frequently taking the long way home just so that I can have the pleasure of riding some more.

Today, 1st of August, a circuit of Hamilton. Although I had been to the town of Ngaruawahia in the morning, to support my school football team (which means trying to encourage them to keep battling despite losing 11-2 to some tough farming lads), I took a spin out north from my house. I stopped for a lovely cup of coffee at Woodville Old Home, or something like that. As this is New Zealand, I was not expecting a National Trust ancient 'home', but it was pretty enjoyable.

There was a cafe next to a cricket pitch. The cynic in me wonders how often the pitch is used, but this was winter. It was a little odd that the stumps were out but they did create a lovely sight. The staff were friendly. I only asked for a long black coffee but frankly, I am a little overweight and hardly need extra food. I took a wander through the gardens and enjoyed the views, before taking a quick tour in the house. As New Zealand is not very old, it is hard to be impressed with items that are 100 years old.

The house and gardens are lovely though, and I recommend them.

I then rode north, to Ngaruawahia, and then turned south to take a route through to Te Awamutu, then via Hamilton Airport back to Hillcrest, in Hamilton. I filled up with petrol. This was not as obviously easily as it should be because I pulled up at the Mobil pump, entered my card, entered my details, entered my "Mobil Saver Con" card, and then discovered that the 91-Octane was not working. I then had to move to another pump and start all over again. There was a sign, a label, attached to the 91-Octane hose, but it was small and only visible when I picked up the pump.

Still, I enjoyed 120+ km of riding, despite a late start. I have not yet decided where I will head off to tomorrow.

I also had to resurrect and recreate a Facebook page. There is no way around it, sadly.

Woodville, New Zealand.

Working day ride

I am committed to some more motorcycle expenses. I was due the 12,000 km service as I had just beaten that number on my odometer, but I have added in heated grips and handle-bar protectors. More money, but I feel I can justify the purchases. The 12,000 km service, well, that speaks for itself. The owners' manual lumps together Oceania and Europe, bizarrely, and tells me that the air cleaner needs to be inspected, the exhaust pipes tightened, spark plugs replaced, fuel hoses inspected, engine oil replaced, throttle cable inspected, throttle valve synchronization inspected, radiator, clutch and drive chain inspected, brakes, brake hoses and brake fluid inspected, tyres, steering, suspension and forks inspected, and finally, chassis nuts and bolts tightened. Phew, quite a list, though I can see that inspection and tightening is perhaps not such a big deal.

However, I added in the heated grips. While I have not especially suffered with the cold either in the winter mornings going to work or when taking trips out, I have read plenty of blogs and seen YouTube postings that suggest they are great. There is also a special offer at my local motorbike dealers. And, of course, who knows? If I get to South America and want to ride across the Andes I want to make sure I can do it. (You will be glad to know I rejected any puns based on cold handies in the Andes. Just too juvenile.) I also wanted handguards which can provide protection from the elements when riding. So I booked the bike in, ordered the parts, was treated very civilly by Boyd's Motorcycles, and even have the loan of a bike while mine is being serviced. Great!

Although the day was cold, and the 4 degrees light was on when I left home, it warmed up to 5 degrees as I left Hillcrest. My teaching day was tough and frustrating, and one of the joys I can console myself with is that I sincerely hope I won't be doing this next year. Will I be riding around New Zealand? Or Australia? Or South America? Or will I give up the daring escape for a logical, rational and financially positive future teaching elsewhere?

I rode home, enjoying the traffic. After seeing riders in Auckland filtering with ability I feel more confident. It is not an ability question but a legality question, since technically motorcyclists are not allowed to filter through traffic in New Zealand. I have tended to be discreet, just overtaking a few cars when I could swap lanes or something. In Auckland I saw motorcyclists putting on their indicators and just heading straight through the lines of traffic. I'll see how it goes. Will I get a ticket?

It was a pleasant ride home. I took a slight detour to enjoy the ride, but the temperature was dropping and I was hungry. My lunch was an apple. I'd like to pretend it was training for a motorcycle trip, but the real reason was that I was heading out of the door of the house when I remembered I had not made lunch, so I grabbed an apple.

Just a spin

We had a week of heavy rain, which, thanks to my decent motorcycle jacket, I do not really mind. Still, I did not get out on the bike much because I had to get some car repairs and then the dreaded Warrant of Fitness for the car. There was also a late-night finish due to parent-teacher interviews, so I was very pleased to take a spin around on the motorbike today, Sunday.

I dropped off the little lad at his mother's and then filled up with petrol at a nearby station. The bike is economical of course. I filled up carefully, enjoying the control of the nozzle and the sight of the petrol pouring in, then bubbling and swirling till it was near the top. It is like the swirling of bath water but, of course, in reverse. Does petrol entering a motorcycle tank swirl in a different direction in the Northern Hemisphere from the Southern?

Then I took the road out to Morrinsville, and turned south along 1b towards Cambridge. The road is, as the name suggests, an alternative to State Highway One. It is single-lane and has no median, but it has good curves, a variety of scenery and all the typical New Zealand smells and features. As a motorcyclist I watch out for muck on the road, such as detritus from tractors. Their tyre treads drop off mud and, all too frequently, the lumpy mud, still with the deep grooves of the tractor tyres, is on a corner as I lean in to turn. When I look left and right I can see the small farms that are the life-blood of New Zealand. Dairy sheds with muddy tracks left by hundreds of cows plodding to be milked twice a day. Family homes, with lights on. Garages and sheds with tractors, utes and other farm vehicles. Fields with Friesian cows contentedly converting grass into food or drink for humans. The fields that are for cows have either barbed wire or just plain wire, sometimes electrified, but, as I approach Cambridge, there are fields with timber fences for the horses.

Cambridge, New Zealand, prides itself on its bloodstock and horseracing and the clearest indicator is that the quadrupeds are mollycoddled with wooden fences, so if they take fright and blunder into a fence, there will be no serious scratches on their hides.

I do like Cambridge. I also like Cambridge, UK, and a possible title of a Round the World Tour would be from Cambridge (NZ) to Cambridge (UK), perhaps via Cambridge (Mass). I have also thought of "From a Thames (NZ) to the Thames (UK)", but with Covid-19 I am not sure of my ability to get further than the South Island! Back to Cambridge (NZ); as well as a fine collection of excellent coffee-shops, and my favourite is a small French cafe, selling over-priced but lovely pastries, the main streets have mosaics on the ground depicting famous horses. I find that lovely. One of Mark Todd's Olympic mounts is commemorated, race winners are immortalized and even successful brood mares and stallions have their busts in a two-dimensional mosaic of carefully arranged jigsaw pieces. Cambridge also has a beautiful village-green-like cricket pitch situated almost in the centre of town. It is surrounded by oak trees and just looks like a village in the Home Counties of England. The kind that probably hardly exists in the Home Counties, but is exemplified here, half a world away.

I rode on through; I wouldn't have minded a coffee but Sunday afternoon is not very lively in this country. I eased myself over the narrow bridge, glancing at the beautiful views of the Waikato River, far, far below, and turned right to Te Awamutu. The road from Cambridge to Te Awamutu does not rank in Mike Hyde's guide to New Zealand's best motorbike rides, but I enjoy it. It has some curves, some changes of direction, the usual ammonia smells of silage, the changes in fresh air temperature and the beautiful sights of the small mountain range of Pirongia and the volcanic shape of Kakepuku. I skirt by Te Awamutu and head north to return to Hamilton using State Highway 3. Just because a road is called a State Highway does not mean that it is much better in width, lanes or straightness than, for example, the road I had just been on from Cambridge. The slight improvement did mean that I was able to move along a little faster, which was pleasing. Once in the Might Tron (Hamilton), I popped into a supermarket to ensure a good meal, and got home, still in daylight.

I have now done 12,000 km with the motorbike since I bought it in the middle of December 2019. It needs servicing, and I will see about getting a date for that tomorrow.

Rainbow's End and, later, home.

The Backpackers' offered a free breakfast, in part because they had closed down their kitchen facilities as a result of Covid-19. So we went down in the morning to have breakfast. I popped out to have a look at the motorbike which I had parked in a car parking lot, to use an Americanism. The Americanism described the place perfectly though; a vacant lot with no buildings, into which Wilson Car Parks had stuck a couple of barriers on and a pay station. The bike was fine, to my relief. We returned to the hostel and went for our breakfast. It was a little shambolic but we were able to get bowls of cereals and some toast, milk and tea.

Soon after, we headed out to Rainbow's End. A fair ride in terms of distance but basically just motorway riding, so little excitement. On arrival, we had the usual gear and paraphernalia issues; I put gloves in the panniers (I remembered that the Spanish word is obscure; las alforjas, but then again, another translation, which seems more mainland Spanish, uses la cartera), carried the helmets and jackets, and carried the day bag. Of course, I wanted to leave stuff in the lockers for the day and I was pretty disappointed to see that the tiny lockers cost $10 and I needed two. They were so small that my helmet did not fit in the left-side opening lockers, but, when I sought help to get the electronic system to give me a right-side opening locker which had more space, a pleasant lady tried to help, but then said, 'Leave the helmet in the office and collect it at the end of the day'. So I cannot complain, because the inherent decency of this woman saved a frustrating situation.

We had fun at the theme park. We enjoyed the rides and risked two more scary ones. One was really quite scary, but the other, called "The Invader," we came back to late in the afternoon. In between those rides, we ate, went on other rides, cried on the Dodgems, raced the Go-Karts and so on.

The trip back on the motorbike was trying. Friday evening traffic in Auckland. Need I say more? While some drivers have learnt to drive, it is always interesting to speculate how many never did a course in driving in their lives. Once again, I parked in the car park for free. And once again, rain teemed down in the evening and I felt for the bike. Perhaps I should have stayed in an AirBnB with a garage.

We left on Saturday morning after another breakfast. This time the lad wanted toast, not cereals. The cheap loaf of bread created a toast that had both a texture and taste of cardboard. I chatted to a few of the more regular people at the backpackers'. In particular, I was intrigued by a man of retirement age, who assured me that it was cheaper to be in a backpackers' than any other accommodation. Is he an inspiration for my retirement or is he the nightmare of retirement; unloved, uncared for, and hanging out with transient travellers on the third floor of an Auckland building?

The ride home went well. We stopped at the Bombay Hills, and the lad wanted KFC. I popped across the road to get a cup of coffee in the petrol station. Then we continued our way. An enjoyable ride on the Waikato Expressway, which has some lovely hills to swoop down through, and also has a number of Maori carvings which give a great impression. We were home without incident.

So some success; although we did not wear all the clothes we took, we did not take too much. I perhaps could have cut down on a book and a notebook for the little lad. Both my laptop and my camera are large and bulky. If I travel next year I will buy a smaller camera and a smaller laptop. My sports shoes were quite large, but I am not sure what the solution is. Perhaps some espadrille type shoes that can be rolled up. We did not need the small towels we brought, though I can see that had we camped, the towels would have been vital.

My first proper trip with C; a success.

Two-up to Auckland.

Motorbike trip, two-up, to Auckland

16 July

Hamilton to Auckland, a two-night stay in a Backpackers' Hostel, with little son C.

Although we'd intended to leave at midday, we were ready to go at 11am. At the last minute, I changed rucksacks, from a a computer rucksack that was bulky with lots of hyper-protected pockets that things could be slid in, to a normal rucksack that I could actually put my camera in. I mention this because, when we arrived in Auckland, I discovered I had left my mobile phone and my glasses in the computer rucksack in Hamilton.

Anyway, I filled up the two Oxford water-proof bags that came with the panniers. They are quite neat, with a long and wide velcro top. My bag was a little more full than C's, in part because I am larger and in part because I brought a pair of shoes while the lad only has one pair when he is with me. I do find myself querying where all the shoes and flip-flops I buy him end up, but that would be churlish. I was a little surprised and disappointed to find that my bag could hardly fit into the saddle bag and that the dimensions do not really correspond. It became difficult to squeeze in my camera into the panniers; this camera is turning into a problem and I will need to get a smaller one.

A little lesson from this road trip is that the two panniers and a rucksack are only just enough space. I do not know if I brought too much stuff, and really won't know until I return home on Saturday. Forgetting my glasses and my mobile phone is not really the best start.

The trip north went well. From home, I went north along Wairere drive, then on to Te Rapa and I stopped at the BP station to fill up. The little lad wanted a chocolate Primo, drank half, and left me to carry the other half. While filling up, I had a friendly comment from a car driver about the chances of rain.

Then it was on to the Waikato Expressway. It was a little chilly and there were a few drops of rain, but nothing too serious. We stopped an hour later at the Bombay Hills and went into a cafe called 'Autobahn.' It was surprisingly full, with many grey-haired clients. I bought a pork pie, which was a little dear, but pleasing. The little lad only wanted a Fanta. He finished the Primo and finished the Fanta. We continued on to the Expressway but there was quite a commotion, with police sirens and multiple police cars. One car was partially off the on-ramp to the Expressway, pointed in the wrong direction and an uninjured person was talking to one policeman with two squad cars already in attendance. New Zealand police are wonderful at taking care of people, but their default action is to close roads for hours on end as they sift through evidence. When I want to arrive somewhere, I much prefer the police of the United Arab Emirates, who would push cars, injured people still inside, off the road to get traffic flowing. So I hastened past, before the NZ Police closed the road down to investigate.

There was noticeably more traffic. I did a steady 105-110 km/h, so slightly above the speed limit, and had a number of cars, trucks and utes in front, beside and overtaking. Once we were in Auckland I pointed out the target destination, Rainbow's End theme park, New Zealand's only theme park. We continued on State Highway One till I saw the signs for “Port”. It was a little struggle to get into the right lanes but we managed. At one stage, I realised that I was going up Queen Street and the Backpackers' was on the other side, so I turned off, did a quick u-turn and reappeared, ready to turn right on to Queen Street. A motorcycle policeman pulled up alongside me, but he obviously had not seen my u-turn (or else was not bothered about it!) and we had a conversation as we waited at the red light. He asked about my bike, complimented the young lad on his jacket, and, in response, said there were 28 motorcycle policemen in New Zealand. He was on a large Honda, 350 kg he said, and I commented that I found the 220 kg V-Strom a little tricky at times. The lights changed and we moved on our separate ways. I pulled in to the Backpackers' and was able to park right outside between two large civic plant pots.

The reception was messy and there was a curious smell to the place, like a mixture of unwashed clothes, unwashed plates, cooking and close-pressed humanity. Many people seemed to be hanging out with no real purpose and I wondered if this was the effect of Covid-19.

C and I went up to our room and it was pretty basic, with two single beds, an en-suite bathroom with a shower and toilet. There was a television, but when I tried to get it going I found that one channel worked well and the others were poor. I gave up my television over a year ago, and since then the channels have not improved.

I took a quick trip out to the motorbike in order to put it into a better and more legal place. Then C and I took a walk to find some supper. He wanted a pizza, but I was not hungry. Still, we found a good place by the port to eat. It was a good day.

Practicalities of Motorbike Tour, 2021.

Motorcycle touring practicalities.

 

Vehicle

Suzuki V-Strom DL650A, NZ Registration B6ZJG, Frame number: Engine number:

Insurance;

 

Extras

Panniers, tank bag, little backseat bag, rucksack, lock, chain lock, Navman, bungy cords, spare petrol tank, camelbak water,

 

Clothing

4 x underwear, 4 x socks, 2 x long-sleeve shirts, 2 x tee-shirts, swimming trunks, small towel, toiletries including detergent, shorts, jandals, jacket, motorcycle jacket, motorbike jeans, waterproof jacket and trousers,

Food

Water bottles, cereals?

Money

Credit card, cash, bank accounts,

Camping

Tent, sleeping bag. Knife, fork, spoon, cup, bowl. Sharp knife, corkscrew/bottle-opener. Rope/cord.

Technology

Mobile phone, camera, GoPro, computer, paper notebook + pens, kindle, flashlight,

 

Finances

Storage of goods in New Zealand; $174/month, for 3m x 3m. I’d have to get rid of some items, but I could keep much till the return. Child support, $274/fortnight, $550/month. More or less $730/month. One year would total $8760.

Daily costs; internet suggests US$30/day, which would be about NZ$40/day, $280/week, $1260/month, $14,600 for the year. In addition, airplane flights and freight. Flight and freight from NZ to Australia = $3,000, Australia to Santiago de Chile (or Auckland to Santiago) = $5000. From Mexico or USA to Europe, $5000. Then an Asia to Auckland; $5000. Total = $14,600 + $15,000 (Auckland to Santiago, USA/Mexico to Europe, Asia to Auckland) = $19,600.

Add on ferries. Add on repairs, tyres, etc. Add on petrol.

 

Australia loop; Mike Hyde’s book has 17,350 km.

South America; Gabriel Landry, Quebec to Argentina 3 months and 20,000 km.

 

A full tank of 15 litres does about 450 km, so Australia would be 39 full tanks at ?? NZ$26 per tank, perhaps Aus$24/tank, = NZ$1002.

South America to North America would be 45 full tanks, NZ$1155.

 

Auckland and Orewa

11 July 2020

337 kilometres.

Auckland is Te Reo Maori for 'over priced real estate'. No, I am kidding about the language. William Hobson was Lieutenant Governor in 1840 when the settlement was established and he named it after his boss, the Earl of Auckland, who was the First Lord of the Admiralty. Did it help Hobson gain a peerage, perhaps a baronial estate in Buckinghamshire? I do not know. Lord Auckland is described by Wikipedia as lacking in talent and indifferent to the history and culture of India, where he was Governor-General. The city is named in honour of someone who never saw the place, and that should already give a sense of the pointlessness and emptiness at the core of New Zealand's largest city. Many non-Aucklanders grumble that it is not really New Zealand, but that reflects the empty premise, which is that people can point to clear culture, traditions, ethnicity and languages that are “New Zealand,” and thus identify what is “not New Zealand.”

I spent Saturday morning typing and at two libraries seeking a motorbike touring book of New Zealand. I had read Mike Hyde's motorbike tour book of Australia and I knew that he had written about touring New Zealand. I found the book in Hamilton's Central Library and stuck it in my saddlebag next to Isabel Allende's “La Casa de los Espiritus.” One of many thoughts about what I should do next year, in 2021, is to do a Ph.D, but I tried before and could not keep up the work, so that is not a relevant possibility. A key aspect to a Ph.D is a reading list, and I thought that if I want to do a tour of New Zealand, Australia or South America, then I should make such a reading list. So I need a literature review.

Moving on to the moving object, the Suzuki. I left “The Tron,” or “The City of the Future,” Hamilton for the “City of Sails,” Auckland, shortly before midday. The new expressway made a lovely ride north but as I approached New Zealand's largest city the traffic became worse and the driving standards dropped. I see this as part of my essential training: if I plan to ride a motorbike in Sydney, Melbourne, Santiago de Chile, Buenos Aires or the city of Mexico, then I had better do well in Auckland! I had no particular destination in mind, just the idea of some lunch and I had left my GPS in the car, which was being repaired. I followed signs to the port and found myself heading down Queen's Street, a major road down to the port. I looked for somewhere to park, but no luck. I rode up and down a few small streets and then noticed a scooter and a small motorbike parked in front of a tree and I left my bike at the next tree. On one side was a “Tepid Swimming Pool” and the other side was a Train Sushi. Both concepts are puzzling. Why tepid? Sure, I get that the different types of sushi are on a belt and revolve in front of the clients, but does that make it a train?

I locked the bike and took a walk. Rain poured down heavily and I remembered that I had left my baseball cap in the saddle bags. I found that I had expertly parked by the Viaduct and so the trendy and beautiful of Auckland were hanging out by the yachts, spending on food and drink. I wandered past a few places, trying to choose somewhere reasonably priced that looked fine. I took a loop around and found myself back at the bike. Nearby was a coffee shop with a special offer chalked on a blackboard. Burger, chips and coffee, $20. It was good.

I took a stroll and admired the personalised number plates. This one suggests that the owner likes to w**k a lot and he is proud of it.

Refreshed, I rejoined the traffic of Auckland and saw the signs for State Highway One, north to Whangarei. Despite living for 12 years in New Zealand I have never been north of the city but I once was offered a temporary teaching post in Orewa, along the Hibiscus Coast.

The road north was busy but manageable and enjoyable. There were clear signs for a toll road but also for a free road which would go through Orewa. It turned out to be a very touristy town, with a line of expensive sea-front houses and numerous small cafes, restaurants and other essentials for the day tripper. I had a cheerful conversation with a group who had enjoyed some alcohol with their lunch. I saw a small cafe called Tasca with a sign for “Estrella Damm, Barcelona.” Estrella is not my favourite Spanish beer, but it was a reminder of my time in Catalonia.

I ordered a coffee and asked the manager if he was Spanish, but he was from Turkey. Such is the world. A Turk in New Zealand running a Spanish tapas bar. It could explain the grilled haloumi on the menu. In the cafe there was a couple, both middle-aged, who looked like they were on a date. She did not speak English well, and he had that loud voice that revealed his belief that if he spoke loudly enough she would understand him. After the coffee, I took a walk to the beach to search for an ideal camera shot, but the ideal framed shot, with trees, had various people sitting and eating, in a very un-photogenic way. The couple from the cafe appeared and she clambered on to the rocks to demand a photo from her companion. Once that was taken she was in a panic as she struggled to get back off the rocks. I looked at my watch and realised that it would be dark by the time I returned home. I left them to their date.

I took a more scenic route back to Auckland and was doing a leisurely 80 km/h, the speed limit, when I was overtaken by two aggressive Harley-Davidson riders doing considerably more than the speed limit. They roared past. The return route was pleasing. I re-crossed the Auckland Harbour Bridge and yet again enjoyed the fine views of the sky-scrapers and the big city. On both sides there were hundreds of yachts, carefully moored in their marinas. I wondered if living in a yacht was permitted, given that the price of living on land in Auckland is out of the reach for most people.

On the motorway south I was riding well and comfortably, despite the traffic. I overtook one car though and pulled in front of it, glanced in my rear view mirror and saw that the driver, of a race and gender that I won't mention, was looking right and had accelerated to be practically on top of me. I accelerated and then let her overtake me. Another vehicle, an unexciting old station wagon, was zig-zagging from left lane to centre, to right, to centre, right again and was, at each lane change, gaining a car space. The car pulled off after a few kilometres, having gained perhaps ten car-lengths through his maneuvers. There were no other incidents on my return and I was home in time to Skype my mother and reheat some leftover food.