After a sweet couple of weeks around Auckland, it was finally time to start paying for my travels. My wages from the web might just about support the life of a van bum, but would definitely not afford a season ski pass, snowboard, sky dive, bungy jump, or any of the other costly delights the south island has to offer. So with a definite lack of enthusiasm I headed for Tauranga in search of a job picking Kiwi Fruit. I wasn’t the only traveller in need of some quick cash, as Kenny and James had decided to join me on the adventure.

I had rang ahead and found work with a guy called Ali. He said that he had vacancies and we could turn up anytime. At half one in the morning we knocked on his door. Thankfully his son was up watching TV and he woke his dad. Ali told us we could talk in the morning as the Kiwi’s were not ready yet anyway, and directed us to our accommodation. Expecting some kind of homely hostel, we were greeted by something more akin to a crack den. Windows were boarded up, there were holes and curious red stains on the walls, the place smelt like curry and was generally filthy. There were only two beds and poor Kenny had to sleep on the floor. Funnily enough we all slept incredibly well and were in good enough spirits to appreciate the ironic sign in the disgusting bathroom.

“Please clean the bathroom after showering”

Cleaning that place would have been imppossible. It was probably the worst place I’ve stayed and needless to say, we didn’t pay Ali for the pleasure, nor did we get to speak to him the next day. Instead we spent the next two days looking for work around the pack-houses and picking contractors.

Our efforts proved fruitless, so we decided to check into a Mount Manganui hostel, so we could at least hit the beach and go for a surf the next day. Luckily three guys had just quit their jobs and the hostel needed to replace them straight away. Without hesitation we signed up and were due to start on Monday, giving us two nights to ourselves.

We had been invited for drinks with some of James’s Argentinean friends, but decided to save ourselves for a trek the next day. We did warm up with a gentle walk up Mt Manganui, but had an early night at the campsite. A campsite that somehow, in a town with no internet, had free wifi. This led to a late departure the next day, and a few unplanned diversions meant we had an even later arrival at the Whirinaki River. Not only were we setting off typically late, but we were woefully underprepared. Only an hour into the trek and we were lost, and both James and Kenny confessed to packing there laptops. It turned out that Kenny had also left a library of books and full load of toiletries in his massive bag. James on the other hand had failed to pack any dry clothes to sleep in, or even a sleeping bag. It was fair to say that none of us had read about the trek and no one knew what to expect.

We were a bit perturbed by a river that needed crossing early on, but took our shoes off, rolled up the trousers and waded across. Seeing there was another crossing further up we gingerly tip toed to the next river and walked through the freezing water. Little did we know there would be nearly a hundred river crossings to come. The forest was impressive though and provided some incredible views. We maintained some small hope of arriving at our wooden hut in the forest before sun down, but that hope was crushed with the realisation that we were lost. Entering a brief clearing in the bush, we failed to find our onward path, but even worse, couldn’t even find where we had come from. Between us we had two torches, one of which was out of battery. After a good 15 minutes we found a path that looked walkable and plowed on in the dark. After walking for over an hour, me at the front with the head lamp, james in the middles, and Kenny lighting up the rear with my mobile phone, we entered another clearing. Optimistically we assumed we had reached the hut, only to find a sign pointing towards Mangamate Hut. Over one hour away.

After a quick bite to eat we carried on with our journey and a good two hours later we arrived, cold, wet, hungry and with cuts all over us. The hut was pretty sweet and had a view over the whole valley. After breakfast Kenny, with his 10kg rucksack, and James without any sleeping gear headed back the quickest way, while I went for the slightly longer track along the other side of the valley. It ended up being a 20km trek but thankfully I’d managed to see the complete Whirinaki track. We all made it back before sun down and it was an memorable little adventure, though none of us were particularly relishing the thought of a hard days work