It's good here

 
November 6th
Up early to fly north to Keri Keri and the Bay of Islands. I arrived to find a perfect English summer’s day and caught the shuttle bus to Paihia, pronounced “pie here” – pie being the Maori for good. And indeed it is good here. The fertile northlands boast the country’s warmest climate and Keri Keri (Maori for dig dig) is famous for its citrus orchards.

The region was the first to be settled by Maori and later by Europeans. The Treaty of Independence was signed at Waitingi overlooking the Bay of Islands – a truly beautiful spot – with the Treaty House and grounds now kept immaculately by the National Trust. Even the cottage garden around the house is a sensory overload, making the mile or so walk out there well worth while.

The tiny Treaty House – originally just 4 rooms – was the home of the British Resident, James Busby and his family, sent from New South Wales to sort out the disturbances between the Maori and Europeans. The upshot was the rather one-sided Treaty of Independence in 1935, resulting in England effectively taking the country over. You can see why everyone wanted a piece of the action. It’s not only stunningly beautiful and fertile, but offers sheltered harbours and fast access to the Pacific Ocean.

From the early 1800s the South Pacific whaling fleet dropped anchor at Koroareka – a short hop across the bay from Paihia – the rowdy seamen earning it the nickname, “hellhole of the Pacific”. Intrigued, I took the ferry across to check it out. But all evidence was swept away by the Maori who burnt the place to the ground in 1845, leaving the Victorians to create in its place the quaint seaside village of Russell. No sign of fighting sailors, just peace, quiet and birdsong.

Unlike Singaporeans, Kiwis have a keen sense of heritage and are desperate to show off their old buildings. In Russell I found their oldest church, built in 1836, and that’s about as old as it gets.

I’d been warned by the motel that there was live music at the pub next door that evening. In the event the 1970s rock on offer turned out to be older than many of the country’s buildings. If you can’t beat them, join in. I bought a beer and found my foot tapping along with the rest of them.