That poor attempt at alliteration for a newspaper headline in sixth form English was about as much as I knew, or didn’t, about the small Pacific island of Niue until last Christmas. Adele started to talk of going to holiday there in the winter. Upon being invited along, I was rather indecisive – I’d not been on an island holiday before, there really wouldn’t be much biking and I’m not much of a swimmer. Somehow I got talked into it; tipping the balance was the fact that such opportunities are obviously rare for me.
It worked quite well, a week relaxing on a tropical island was just the tonic to deal with the post-marathon tiredness. A bike was still packed, as I maintain that bikes are a great way to explore somewhere. The rest of the McKirdy clan arrived a few days before me, so by the time Adele met me at the airport everyone else had island life down. I’d done minimal research – Niue is a self-associated state of NZ, one of the world’s largest coral islands approximately equidistance between Fiji and the Cook Islands it is home to only 1600 people (most Niueans live in Auckland).
At the beginning of winter, it was strange to be surrounded by reminders of home (similar vehicles, street signs, groceries imported from NZ and so on) yet it was almost 30ºC everyday. Unfortunately, it was unseasonably wet with heavy downpours most nights – but the regular daytime rain was generally quickly passing showers. When we spent so much time in the water, more water falling from the sky didn’t really curtail activities – anyway, we didn’t usually have to wait long for the sun to reappear.
So we spent the week snorkelling, swimming, fishing, walking to various caves and chasms, eating a lot of coconut and fish (sometimes together, often not). By far, the highlight was the snorkelling in the clear blue water. The reef extends out from the shore, so there is no need to swim or boat out to it – it’s right there. The colourful fish and coral life was staggering and I was enthralled.
Even though the island is tiny (it took only three hours to ride the perimeter roads), a van was necessary to get the eight of us around between all the beaches and other sights we wanted to spend time at. If you think the NZ vehicle fleet is old (many used Japanese imports), Niue is another level – used-NZ-used-Japanese imports, if you will. It seems spare parts are hard to come by, so discarded wrecks are strewn all around; it’s odd.
Alas, I have no snorkelling photos (you’ll have to take my word about the vibrant colours) due to the wetness of the water – so here are some more land-based pictures.
First explore – down the cave near Adele & James’s accommodation. There are a lot of limestone caves around the shore.
A smattering of ferns down said-cave.
Happy not to climb down there into the surging ocean. Nice and clear, but.
A twenty or so minute walk through the jungle led us down to Talava Arches.
Looking out through and to Tavala Arches.
Exploring the flats between the arches at low tide.
Typical jungle walking.
Walking out through Palaha Cave to the sea.
Looking out across to the edge of the reef.
A shower has passed. Those tsumani evacuation signs look familiar. Also shown: the general state of the few roads – that is, poor.
Near the end of the week, the sky cooperatively cleared for some decent sunsets.
The photo above was taken from the balcony of the Hio cafe, where on Thursdays they hold a fantastic banquet of local cuisine. We enjoyed it very much and I may have eaten too much – definitely filling my lifelong quota of taro.
Tamakoutoga Beach – one of the few sandy ones.
More beautiful pools at Avaiki Cave, and rather unconvincing proof that I did actually go in the water.
John appreciating that Avaiki looks even better when the sunlight is shining directly into the entrance of the cave.
Avaiki Cave had something approaching a mezzanine level, good fun clambering up there and checking out the formations from a different perspective.
Fifteen years ago, Niue was hit by Cyclone Heta and the damage was catastrophic. Alofi, the main centre, bore the brunt of it and was devastated. With so many homes ruined and such damage, we heard that two-thirds of the island’s population upped sticks and emigrated to NZ. Many of these emigres still own their land on the island, but the shells of their houses are still in ruins and slowly being reclaimed by the jungle. It was a curious sight, these abandoned and derelict houses, and a little disheartening – and I could hardly be said to have any ties to Niue.
Our last full day on the island had the best weather that I got to see there; we made the most of it by swimming at three different beaches in amongst the eating, drinking and chatting to people. With such a small population and only two flights a week from Auckland bringing people in, we kept seeing the same people all around the place. Rather quaint and charming.
Back to Matapa Chasm; this one has some fresh water flowing in so is cooler – but this time we had the sun directly overhead warming us, perfect.
James up yet another coconut tree.
Coconut catching was well practiced by this stage.
Final swim was at Limu Pools, especially good.
All too soon it was “plane day”, and our time relaxing in the warm was over. A fantastic week, so very different to my usual trips away – thanks to all the McKirdys for having me along.
Dawn wasn’t too bad either.
It really was a lovely morning, and the wind-gods must have felt sorry for me – there was little to contend with. The road curves left and climbs to the pass on the left of Mt Dalgety.
It really was a nice day, Mt Cook and the Southern Alps hove into view.
Finally, I reached the pass. Rather unhurried and tired, somehow sixty kilometres and 800 metres of climbing had taken five and a half hours! Never mind, it would be all downhill from here – surely.
Yes, a long downhill!
The gravel road in, and the track up to the diggings on the left, Mt Kyeburn on the far right.
Looking back only a little way up, the Rock and Pillar Range in the distance.
I contemplated the ride up here, knowing what the ski was like.
Rather a cute little hut; waiting, I tidied the hut a little, soaked in the sun and view and took photos of my bike posing.
This is fairly representative of much of the remaining trail up – a bit different with no snow!
West over Oteake Conservation Park – plenty more tracks to explore.
Looking over the Maniototo again, the track I’d come up and Buster Diggings on the right.
Climbing, climbing…
Almost there, the track I would follow down can just be seen curling away to the left at the bottom of the scree.
The long since dug diggings a more obvious scar on the tussock slopes from up here.
Bike needed another breather.
Looking over to St Mary’s Range and time to descend!
The track dropping away from me to cross the Kyeburn and meet Dansey’s Pass Road.
Glimpses of the Pacific could just be made out.
Finally down to the Kyeburn.
This crossing I couldn’t keep my feet from being anything but soaked. So why not just stand in the rushing water for a while admiring things?
After surprising the family for Christmas last year, I skived off for a few days of Central Otago bikepacking. It was brilliant and I’m looking forward to revisiting some of my route, and more, shortly.
Adele joined me for a memorable, fairly big, hilly and hot day on the Old Dunstan Trail. 
Local bikepacking trips were fairly scarce, this one south of Havelock North sticks in the mind for the insane mud.
Further south, the Number 8 Wired route was a blinder. One easy day of gravel roads and hills.
And one tough day getting to the coast and back – significant hike-a-bike, rugged trails and battling into a warm NWer all the way home.
The hills west of Gisborne did whet the appetite with some stunning rural scenery and riding.
Just before reaching Opotiki and ending that painful (favouring my left knee led problems in my other foot and barely being able to walk for two weeks – I got better) ride, I met some other bikepackers that took me back to Rotorua and snapped this last photo of my trusty Surly.
I thoroughly enjoyed the continuing Geyserland Gravel Grind series of bikepacking events based out of Rotorua again this year – I lined up for five in total. For the Mini-, Pete leant me his spare bike. 
I liked it so much, I promptly test-rode and ordered the latest model. Here it is, unusually, unloaded – it’s certainly lighter than I was used to for bikepacking. I’m looking forward to just as many good trips and memories.
All ready for a few days away; having all one’s luggage stolen has an advantage in getting newer, improved gear.
Finally I made it down south for one of Adele’s birthday trips. A thoroughly enjoyable week of skiing, family, friends and beautiful Otago scenery. I finally got ski-touring with a super-fun day up and down Mt Kyeburn.
The first big climb in Montana.
Avoiding wildfires was a regular consideration.
The fire reroute turned out golden – with another long downhill.
We made it above the cloud, I climbed a mountain! That excitement was only tempered by the descent hammering my quads and being reduced to a hobble for the following week.
The Classic Geyserland Gravel Grind was a nostalgic trip back to the Bay of Plenty and many places I went while growing up nearby and on my first bike tours.