By Marcelle La Cour

Nov 2-3, 2002
1st tale


II thought I'd write down a few of my adventures from the last few days for you...We were welcomed with bursts of lightning firing across a turbulent sky as the plane landed in Auckland. Just my style, and perfect for All Hallow's Eve! The next morning frothy white remnants of the storm rode gaily through the sky on air so clear and clean it was, and is, as if I was breathing air from a primitive earth that man has not yet sullied. Yet this is a huge city, with waterways from the sea interweaving among the hills. Quite lovely for a city, not at all what I’m used to, but I was longing for the open and unpopulated spaces.

The next morning we headed out early to Tauranga on the east coast of the North Island, a few hours drive from here; through hills and vales so green and alive with color that it was hard to believe this was real. It looks just like the Shire from the Lord of the Rings, and in fact we were just a few miles away from where it was filmed. The air was light and balmy, tropical like the Caribbean, but cooler and cleaner somehow – just amazing. It made me feel like dancing off into the sky, I felt so light in it! It is more difficult to pin down the quality of the light. It is intense in its brightness, and it seems that the colors of the flowers and green things are much more vibrant, alive, as if no atmosphere exists between what I saw and myself.

I was taking photos like crazy, hoping that I could catch this wondrous quality along with the unearthly landscapes that appeared upon each bend in the road. They were simply amazing. One was a gorge we drove through, covered in native bush (ferns, palm trees, pines and other dense growth) and rushing from it a river brown and swollen from the storm. The rushing waters were cuddled by grasses dotted with tall white daisies nodding in the breeze and shining like white diamonds in the sun. Another landscape appeared – winding our way down to the sea purple thistles and orange and yellow daisies blossomed, brilliant with color amid grasses of green and bright orange. These gave way to a sea of vibrant blue-green that seemed to be even clearer than the waters off Antigua or Aruba, but deeper and cooler. Then the beach – so white, trailing in a sparkling swath into the distance, toward a densely forested bluff jutting out into the ocean. Only a few houses here, their many-windowed panes open to the breezes and barely a soul on the pristine beach. I just wanted to take off running down its unspoiled smoothness, and then to fall into the water (which was not very cold – I tested it with a toe!), but we had to go on.

We drove though twisting roads, each new vista breathtaking and dramatically different. You can't turn your head in any direction, from any spot and not see some astoundingly unreal view of beauty and delight. Farms grazed by cattle and sheep, deer and Alpaca farms, Kiwi orchards and even Avocado orchards. The food here tastes so clean, fresh, and has much more density and flavour then even the organically grown food I get in LA. An Avocado here is a real experience! And there are fruit and vegetable stands all along the roads, so it is easy to sample anything available to be eaten.

We reached Tauranga on skidding wheels, a city of intricate waterways and bluffs on the sea. The air was very cool under the scattered clouds, but almost hot in the sun. Drastic temperature changes depending on whether the cloud or sun was above. We stopped at Mt. Maunganui, an ancient remnant of volcano rising up out of the sea like the prow of a ship, connected to land by just a strip of a path which goes all the way around the mountain (It isn't really a mountain in our terms, more like an enormous hill) just above sea level. I took off on a brisk walk – what a trip this place is! I was taking photos every few yards it seemed, even though I was flying around the trail. I felt so free and light and strong, my body so alive and hungry for this that I just wanted to take off! The air blew hot and cold down the cliffs above me, through the sub-tropical brush and the twisting, many-fingered limbs of Pohutakawa trees reaching over me and across the path. The trees stretch their green leaves toward the turquoise waters below, lapping against the black rocks. These outcroppings are jagged and dangerous; ancient spears of a volcanic eruption thrown from the earth, seemingly frozen in space and time. I felt I had entered a timeless age of ancient activity that had never entered the present era. I rounded the mountain traveling fast, as I could see that an oncoming squall was going to let loose. I had felt its presence hovering beyond the sparkling waves. Just before it let go a rainbow arched across the sky, shimmering like a distant dream. The rain came suddenly and at an angle, driven by a rising wind. It whipped down in sheets, gusting over the path and there I was, running like crazy to get under something, and laughing. I came to a rest area where others had come to shelter from the downpour. I was soaked, my clothes clinging to me like sealskin. It felt great! The storm blasted itself out in minutes and then the sun came out only to say goodnight as it sank beneath the clouds in a sunset worthy of a National Geographic cover.

Next morning I awoke to a sky as clear as a first dawn on earth. I always wake with the sun – everyone else was still asleep, so I had time to enjoy the quiet and the haunting calls of birds new to me. Beautiful trilling notes they had, the melodies very sweet and pure. We took off later toward Rotorua, the land of geysers and volcanic activity, and a hot spot for tourists and seekers of health-giving mineral baths. We traveled hilly forests of native bush and pastures of grazing herds of everything from Scottish long-hair cows, to sheep and lamas. We wound our way down the road toward Lake Rotorua where we stopped so I could go out to see the black swans that glided the wind-swept waves. I found some of their feathers to bring back. I love birds feathers, have a collection from all over. And swans have always been my favorite flying creature. I could smell the sulphur on the wind from the geysers, beyond. When we got to the town we could smell it everywhere. We went to a Maori village where a Maori gave us a tour of the mud pools and volcanic steam fissures that they use to both cook their meals and take baths in. We saw the warriors perform their war dance. That was very powerful to watch. And then we went to the Polynesian baths. God, do I wish I could take those home with me! Hot mineral waters are piped up from the volcanic pits underneath into baths where you can rent bathing suits and such and take the hot baths at different temperatures. It was sheer bliss to sink into that steaming water and let it swirl around my body, feel the heat and minerals do their magic in my muscles. So relaxing and rejuvenating and a sheer sensual delight. I could do this every day! I felt wonderful after that, but we had to move on, so we took off in the car, flying up and down hills and ravines. I had to really hang on whipping around those corners! And we got a ticket! But even that didn’t slow us down for long.

As afternoon lingered on toward sunset we reached the hills, coming to a land from out of a fantasy novel. Mounds of earth covered in grasses glowed golden-green in the setting sun, topped by monolithic stones rising hundreds of feet into the air. The scene took me back to an ancient Britain and its Tors. They rise out of a field of flat green pastures, here and there, like chimeras not of this earth but from another magical place. I can't wait to get at my brushes and canvas! We traveled on back to Auckland, under the darkening sky, stopping once so I could take photos of the moonlit night reflecting in shades of silver and gray in the waters of the river by the road near Hamilton.

Well, that's all for now. We are going up to the Bay of Islands in a few days, then down to the South Island the following week. I'll write again in a few days.

© Marcelle La Cour. All Worldwide Rights Reserved   

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