NZ

When the Maoris arrived on these shores in a canoe many centuries ago, they named the place 'New Zealand', which means 'Land of constant rainfall, and then some', and they weren't kidding. It rains here, all the time, which makes camping a right barrel of laughs. Saying that, camp sites here are pretty well equipped with full indoor kitchen facilities and gas BBQs. As the weather is not conducive to climbing, we've mainly been doing other things: seeing the beautiful Coromandel peninsula, 'learning' to surf at the (apparently) world class breaks at Raglan - Sarah's a natural at catching waves, used to it as she is from representing Bristol Uni at competitive surfing. I'm more of a natural at falling off them, eating sea water. I definitely would like to try it again, perhaps when we reach the more temperate waters of Oz. We also did some 'black water rafting' in the glowworm caves at Waitomo, which turned out to be a bit of a disappointment for anyone who's done any caving in the UK: pitched as a white-knuckle ride, it was more a sedate experience, even if the glowworm milky way was absolutely astounding. We've now arrived at Warepapa South, and actually managed to get some climbing in yesterday afternoon, dodging the showers. Curiously, the crag we went to is called 'Froggatt Edge', not unlike another rock climbing place of worship closer to home. I'm writing this in Bryce's Place, a top-notch gear shop slap bang in the middle of nowhere, a pretty cool place. The proprietor, Bryce Martin, is a walking dictionary of NZ climbing, and the coffee is pretty decent, too.

This morning dawned with a deluge (again), so we're probably moving on to Rotorua after breakfast for some rafting on the Kaituna river (grade V whatever that means) - at least it shouldn't matter with some rain.