Zed in all his glory, posing by a rather windswept Lake Taupo
Zed lives! He might be younger than his older brother Oz1, but it's obvious from that jaw line and the obstinately old-fashioned looks that he's a Toyota Corona. He's also quite a lot bigger, being a 1984 station wagon, and with the white paint and dodgy stereo he's certainly not the same as the little monster that made it round the emptiest continent in the world, but as far as spacious accommodation goes, Zed's got it just right.
With a foam mattress in the back, enough water to feed the strangely thirsty radiator, and a road map, I'm ready to tackle the Land of the Long White Cloud, from tip to tail. Insurance, AA membership and all the other little security devices secured, I've got until the end of March in New Zealand, not long enough to see everything, but long enough to put a serious dent in the map.
My workmates have been towers of strength, helping me out with buying advice galore. Buying a car is one of the most traumatic events I can imagine, but after a couple of false starts, and a rashly placed deposit on a wreck I didn't end up buying (thankfully), I finally discovered Zed and liberated him from one of the most down-trodden, miserable suburbs on the planet; without my friend Anne-Marie's down-to-earth advice, I'd have probably lost my marbles in the search for wheels.
Zed on the West Coast of the South Island; spot the mattress in the back
It's also opened my eyes, travelling around and exploring Auckland in the search for cars, and schools to write about. Auckland might be beautiful when it comes to Mt Eden, Epsom (where I've been working), Parnell (the trendy area) and the beautiful harbour; but when Auckland is grim, it's very grim. Every city has its downside, and with the Maori and Islander2 troubles, gang warfare is a way of life in quite a few areas, crime is high, and the murder rate surprising for such a small population.
Not only have I sorted out my wheels, and therefore my house for the next few months, I've also got my tramping gear sorted out. I've bought a very light, compact tent that I can shove in my backpack and take on tramps without breaking my back, I'm slowly breaking in my new tramping boots (and ripping my ankles to pieces in the process, as per usual), and I've got my bedding sorted out for the back of Zed. All this is making my feet itch worse than a plaster cast, and it'll be a fun day indeed when I finally set off to explore.
I don't have a plan: it's not like Australia, where there's one road round the outside, one down the middle, and that's your lot. The South Island is easier to circumnavigate – it's long and thin, so it's up one side and down the other, with the odd foray into the mountainous middle to brave the passes – but the North Island is inconveniently round, with both the coasts and the middle worth a visit. Nothing's too far away, though, so I don't foresee any problems seeing almost everything, but I've been putting off the planning until I'm actually on the road. Perhaps that's the best idea, seeing as my plans for Australia changed by the day; plans are made to be broken, after all.
1 All my cars have had names – it makes it easier to yell at them then the steam's pouring out from under the bonnet – and Oz was the trusty Corona that got me round Australia.
2 'Islanders' is the name given to those from the Polynesian islands like Fiji, Tonga, Samoa and so on.
