Mt. Maunganui - NZ Trip

While we were taking mini tiki-tour around Rotorua and the Bay of Plenty we decided to drop into Mt. Maunganui. Just up the road from where Dad spent his formative years on the farm, the last time I had visited was when I was about 8/9 years old. And it also happened to be in the middle of summer... Christmas Eve? I am open to corrections.

Anyway, the things I remember from '94:
- The beach being very shelly, to the point where I distinctly remember turning my nose up at anything other than walking in my shoes, or walking very delicately so as to protect my feet. not quite the "kiwi kid" thing to do.
- The water was cold. Well... it is the Pacific Ocean, and, as alluded to above, I think I was being a pansy.
- The Mount. Not really a mountain in the strictest Utah sense... or really any sense for that matter. More a big head of land that sticks out into the Ocean. But when the only thing you have is rolling hills all around you, it does look like a mountain.
- Climbing the other (smaller) point to go and see the blow-hole that my dad raved about from his childhood. I remember being mildly impressed, although in typical fashion I think I conveyed more that everything was extremely dull, and I was bored.

This time around it happened to be winter. A NZ winter it is true, but winter nonetheless. That didn't stop us from going to the beach, though. Evan, having been deprived of surfing for almost a year being in Utah, was desperate to catch some waves. In fact, the previous evening he had insisted on jumping out of the car as we were driving along the coast and running into the ocean to go body surfing... Even though it was freezing and there was definitely a huge rain front coming in right at us. The rest of us stayed in the cars where it was warm and dry. The fact that he wanted to go surfing was further exacerbated by the fact that we spent the night at a lovely apartment with an ocean view. So, the next day, we rented Evan a wet-suit and a board and sat on the beach with windbreakers on watching him get pounded by the choppy waves.



He had fun though.

I can't speak for everyone else (I know Sarah was pretty cold...) but Lena certainly had fun, too. When she wasn't eating sand she was trying to run into the ocean, just like she had seen her Daddy do. It took the combined efforts of the grandparents, two aunts, and an adopted aunt to make sure she didn't drown. (I was taking a break, and watching my husband in case he drowned.)







We were still seeing that sand about three days after Lena ate it!

When Evan was done being beaten up by the waves we all headed up to the blow-hole. It wasn't quite the trek I remembered it being, and the blow-hole wasn't as big either, but it was still pretty cool. I didn't take pictures of it though because I was too paranoid that in my pregnant, and therefore highly precarious, state I would topple over the edge. Oh well. I did get a picture of the mount though, and some cute pictures of Lena on our way back to the cars.



Mt. Maunganui from the Blow-Hole Peninsula.





The Blow-Hole Peninsula behind Lena. The Blow-Hole is around the other side.



Baby Foot Prints.



Lena and Daddy. Those tiny specks on the beach further up ahead are people, just for wave comparison size.



Evan at the top of Mt. Maunganui after hiking it with Dad at some ungodly hour of the morning.