The walk

Today was a walk. More than a walk, a boat ride, out to Devonport,  then a walk. No pictures just my talking head.

Leaving our hotel, we walk to the ferry terminal and get the tickets we need to go to this presquille.

Today is a windy day. We get on board the ferry, bobbing happily in the sheltered harbour. Out to sea we go making an arcing loop to not only get to the port but to counter the huge buffeting winds accompanied by splashy waves. My sister is saying "whoa, whoa" with great delight as each wave hits the boat, hoisting it up and diving it down.

Devonport is the home of the New Zealand navy. Today, there were three large gray vessels, the fourth being in Fiji on a mission to help the hurricane victims.

It's all very pretty there, as a fancy suburb of Auckland. Very quaint shops, cafes, a movie theater,  all supremely well preserved from the Victorian Era.  We looped, swung around, went through arcades, arm in armed our way along the Esplanade and then ascended into the small hills as we worked our way toward Birkenhead, the next ferry port back to the city.

You always know when you are in a bedroom community. There are more crickets than people.

An abandoned house with a completely overgrown porch and entryway.  A small pathway near an estuary, large mangrove swamp at low tide. A few boats sitting on that low tide on their bottoms, one, two, three and seemingly a pirate cove. Helpful strangers asking these two very out of place Pakeha women, if we are lost. Only sort of.

We find our way with a very inadequate map, three or so miles down the road, in a tiny village called Bayswater. Lunch, followed by another mile to the wind buffeted terminal.

Howling wind inside a box called a terminal made us both think about the Artic, or rather the Antarctic and Scott.

A swell ride back to downtown Auckland finished our circle. Nine am till two thirty. Both a little foot weary, both a little tired. Nothing that chips and lemon lime bitters can't fix.

A wonderful excursion.