Just like watching the swirling colours of the sunset on
Uluru the night before, watching the sunrise behind Uluru, illuminating its
neighbouring rock formation, Kata Tjuta (better known as The Olgas) is not to
be missed! Our tour was woken up nice and early in the pitch black and chilly
cold. We quickly collected our belongings and rolled up our swags, and
clambered into the tour bus for a 40-minute drive west to a viewing platform
bang in the middle of the two amazing rock formations.
The sunrise in the east behind Uluru
The Olgas are in some ways more impressive than Uluru,
albeit being much less known (though they feature prominently in the opening
sequence to the Disney film The Rescuers
Down Under). Whereas Uluru is one massive rock, Kata Tjuta is a cluster of
towering rock stacks with rounded tops, and they are even taller than Uluru!
Geologically, the rocks at Kata Tjuta and Uluru date back over 500 million
years! An ancient mountain range to the west that was created during the
Petermann Orogengy was the source for all of the sand and boulders that were
eroded from the mountains and deposited in a large basin to the east of the
mountains. Over time, these sediments built up and compressed earlier
depositional strata into the sandstone and conglomerates that make up these
rock formations. Over time, further compression and faulting tilted the rocks
such that previously horizontal strata are now almost vertical! While Uluru is
mostly sandstone, large boulders stick out of the steep conglomerate rock walls
of Kata Tjuta.
We stopped at a designated viewing platform for the sunrise
and along with at least one hundred other people waited as the sky started to
lighten up behind Uluru to the east and eventually the sun peaked up over the
horizon, silhouetting Uluru in the distance while illuminating the massive
domes of The Olgas, turning them from shades of gray to pink to orange and
yellow and red. It was a beautiful setting to be sure; however, the sheer
number of people and cameras continuously clicking and the Canadian
fashionista’s complaining about the cold made it much less peaceful as it could
be, though if you could block those sounds out in your head, you could just
imagine what it would have been like to see this every morning without the
nearby roads or viewing platforms, and the whole experience takes you to a
whole new place.
The breaking sunlight on Kata Tjuta (The Olgas)
Again, we had a lot of ground to cover today, and Adam, our
guide, wasted no time in getting us back onto the bus and brought us to the
parking lot at the locality of Petermann. The sun was already high in the sky.
Considering the throng of people at the sunrise viewing platform, there were
amazingly few people here at Kata Tjuta. As much as I loved how quiet it was
here, it’s really too bad that so many thousands of people come all the way out
here, to the middle of this huge country to get on a bus, drive to a viewing
platform, take a few photos, and hop back on their plane. I can’t lie, I also
took a lot of photos, but that is
never enough for me. I couldn’t come all the way out here and not have an experience, to walk through
the landscape, or listen to the wind and birds, or feel the sun’s radiating
heat. I wish more people desired experiences in nature. Maybe we’d all have a
better appreciation for our planet and our environments and become better, more
humble people.
We got off the bus and prepared for a hike through the
Valley of the Winds which takes you from the parking area between some of the
massive rocks that are The Olgas and into the valley protected between them.
Even in August, Australia’s winter, the sun can become too intense to be
outside this far in the Outback, so any hikes should start promptly in the
morning. The Olgas are also incredibly sacred to the local Aboriginal
communities, but curiously, outside of those communities, no one knows why. At
Uluru, there are places where you cannot take photos because of spiritual
significance, but there are signs explaining why the site is sacred. At Kata
Tjuta, nothing is off-limits, but the whole area holds such a deep spiritual
importance that only those in the Aboriginal communities can know what it is!
Down in the Valley of the Winds at Kata Tjuta
The Valley of the Winds is aptly named as air from the
heating rocks rises and pulls in air from the surrounding area that gets
funneled and focused in the valleys between the rocks. It’s not a difficult
walk into the valley, but it is a stunning walk as you work your way between
amazingly steep rock walls with massive boulders sticking out. The valley
itself is made up of gently rolling rocky hills with scrubby vegetation and a
few gum trees dotting it. The walk takes about three hours, provides
spectacular scenery dotted with intricate flowers, and is incredibly peaceful
as anyone you walk past just smiles and nods their hellos, not wanting to ruin
the quiet atmosphere. Because no one knows the real significance of Kata Tjuta,
there almost isn’t much else to say because there is nothing to interpret.
We finished our walk in the late morning and set up our
lunch back at the bus before we packed up at set off for another long drive. We
left Kata Tjuta, passed Uluru once more, and drove the hour or so back to the
Curtin Springs Roadhouse for a quick break before turning off the Lasseter
Highway onto Luritja Road toward Watarrka National Park, home of Kings Canyon.
We stopped once more to collect firewood for that night’s dinner that was a
fun, if not frustrating pit stop. The Canadian fashionista hadn’t been with us
the previous day when we collected firewood and was trying to write postcards
to send back home as our bus drove down the bumpy, dusty dirt road. Trying to
write while driving over washboard road conditions is no easy task, and one
more than one occasion, she would slam down her pen and shout something along
the lines of, “I’m trying to write a postcard! Can’t the bus just stop so I can finish? This is so hard!”
Complaints that received nothing but an annoyed look from me as I asked her
what she expected! My postcards were barely legible because of all of the
bumping around, but I thought it was part of the fun! Not only was I describing
to my family what I was doing, but they could actually see it in the squiggles
in my lettering! She didn’t seem to understand and got even more flustered as
the bus swerved to the left and right. Once we stopped, she finally finished
her postcards (though she took her time, probably not wanting to get her
clothes too dirty with all the red dust) while the rest of us ventured back out
into snake country to collect firewood.
A herd of feral camels in Australia
And we were in store for a treat before we left. As we
loaded back onto the bus, someone spotted a little brownish-gold body bouncing
between the trees and a single solitary dingo sauntered up to the bus! Frankly,
I expected to see more dingoes than we did, but the curious little creature was
the only one we saw and after figuring out we had nothing to offer it, he
quickly sauntered away just as quickly as he came.
Further down the road, we were in for another treat as a
massive herd of wild camels was socialising on the side of the road. Adam
stopped our bus and we all got out, quietly stepping as close as we could to
these amazing creatures without spooking them! There were dozens of them –
mostly adults, but a few young ones, too and they just moved together, minding
their own business. We stayed there, watching them for a while as another
brilliant sunset lowered down toward the horizon. It was just such an odd
sight, seeing the camels, not only because they are just funny looking animals,
but because you just know they aren’t supposed to be there! The wild camel
herds have naturalised so easily to the Australian Outback, their numbers can’t
be culled. They’ve repopulated so well, and from such a small original stock,
that people in the Middle East actually buy their camels back from Australia
because the Australian camel genetics are so pure, they fetch quite a high
price back in the Middle East!
The setting sun was blinding as we drove west to Kings Canyon Resort but we eventually
pulled in to our campsite for the night, got our fire up and blazing, made
dinner, and set up our swags for another chilly night under brilliantly clear
skies in the middle of the Outback.
It was a rough morning trying to wake up on time and be out
in front of the YHA Alice Springs in time to be picked up for my 3-day
adventure in the Outback. Though I originally wanted to rent a 4WD and do the
trek from Alice Springs to Uluru with friends, I wasn’t able to convince any of
my friends to come along on this trip with me and I sure as hell wasn’t about
to tempt fate by doing it on my own because with some of my travel luck, I’d
inevitably get bogged down in some sand, run out of water, and get bitten by a
snake trying to find a cell signal! So I booked a 3-day tour of some of the Outback’s
most famous sites.
WayOutback tours offer a number of trips ranging from 3 days
to over a week, some of which are more rugged than others. The one I’d booked
was “all inclusive” in the sense that all food was provided for, sleeping
arrangements were already made, and all I had to do was show up, sit down in the
bus, and enjoy the scenery. Soon enough, a big…truck? I’m not entirely sure how
to describe it. It was a vehicle that had the front cab of a small semi-truck
and instead of a cargo hold on the back, it had a relatively small coach like a
charter bus with big windows and two seats on either side. The bus accommodated
24 people and was jacked up on big 4WD tires.
Our driver, Adam, helped the two of us being picked up put
our luggage in the storage hold on the back of the bus. It took us a while to
pick up everyone else from their respective hotels and hostels around Alice
Springs, but soon enough we had a nearly full bus with people from all over the
world: an American girl, her father, and her Swedish friend, a hip-hop dance
teacher from Amsterdam, a girl from Glasgow, an adventurous guy from Vancouver,
and your typical handful of German and French backpackers.
The bus was chatty at first as we all were introducing
ourselves and going through the typical banter common amongst backpackers in
Australia, but it was still pitch black out and we had a good 6-hour drive
ahead of us and soon enough everyone was sleeping.
The thing anyone needs to know about the Northern
Territories is that there are very very few towns and everything is incredibly
far apart! When you drive down the highway and come across a petrol station or
bathroom, you stop and fill up and use the bathroom because you never know
where the next one will be. Between the towns are small roadhouses that usually
have a gas station, some hotel rooms, camping spots, toilets, and a bar.
Sleeping dingo at the Stuart's Well Roadhouse south of Alice Springs
Our first stop was at one of these roadhouses, the Stuart’s
Well Roadhouse, and it was the first chance we had to stretch our legs, and
grab a coffee. This roadhouse was unique in that it also had a number of pens
where Australian animals like emu, kangaroos, and various birds were on display
for tourists stopping in. But they also had two of the more unique sights in
the Outback: camels and a dingo. Camels are obviously not native to Australia,
but were imported from the Middle East because of their hardy survivalist
instincts in desert environments and the preferred cargo animal over horses,
which require a lot of water. A transcontinental telegraph cable was built from
Adelaide to Darwin with Alice Springs being used as a transfer point along the
way. Camels were used by the crew that laid down the cable. But like many
non-native animals in Australia, some of the camels escaped and proliferated in
the desert and today there are over one million wild camels roaming Western
Australia and the Northern Territories. Dingoes were also introduced to
Australia over 40,000 years ago and have also adapted and proliferated
throughout the continent and have just recently been described as a separate
canine species and not just a variety of wild dog. The one dingo at this
roadhouse was old and used to tourists, so was not caged up and was pretty
snoozy and docile.
Adam, our driver, didn’t let us linger too long as we still
had a long ways to go. We drove another few hours to the Erldunda Roadhouse for
another bathroom break, and turned off the Stuart Highway onto the Lasseter
Highway toward Uluru.
Most people have visions of Australia’s Outback as being
rocky with lots of sandy deserts, dry eucalypts, and brilliant soils stained
red by the rusting of iron in the dust and soil. These images are spot on what
you actually see and it is beautiful! Nothing but flat land as far as the eye
can see until a few low-lying rocky ridges or mesas rise up in the distance,
like Mt. Conner. But I was surprised at just how green it was! The trees were,
by no means, lush and foresty, but the gum trees here were not as brown and dry
as I thought they would be – really a testament to just how well-suited for
every microclimate in Australia these trees are!
Mt. Conner off in the distance near Curtin Springs
We pulled off the main road shortly before the Curtin
Springs roadhouse to collect some firewood for our campfire that night. Part of
the reason why I booked this particular tour is that while everything was
catered for us, we still had to participate in collecting firewood, preparing dinner,
and washing up dishes. It gives you that little tinge of roughing it! Like
anything in Australia, simple tasks, like collecting firewood carry inherent
dangers. Out here, it was snakes. Some of the world’s most deadly snakes are
found throughout Australia, but exceptionally potent ones here in the Outback.
We had to be very careful when picking up dead wood that no snake was sunning
itself nearby! But soon enough we had our firewood, and we made our pit stop at
Curtin Springs, and carried on west to Uluru.
There were a lot of rocky plateaus and mesas in the distance
along the Lasseter Highway and every time we thought we saw Uluru, Adam would
shake his head and assured us and assured us, “You’ll know when you see it!”
And sure enough, another few hours down the road, the rock loomed into view,
dwarfing any and all other mesas we’d seen! Everyone knows what Uluru looks
like as it’s one of the most photographed rocks in the world. And with good
reason! It’s the world’s largest monolith – or single rock, and it juts up from
the flat Outback surroundings to over 300 m in height. We kept driving closer
and closer and Uluru kept getting bigger and bigger. Finally, we pulled into
our campsite in Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park.
I couldn’t wait to get up close with the massive rock, but
it was going to have to wait a bit. A few more people were joining our tour,
but were flying directly in to the airport at Uluru, rather than Alice Springs,
so Adam gave us directions for lunch and he left to pick up the others. Soon he
came back with a French family that had a few kids with them, and a blonde girl
from Canada who was finishing up teaching fashion at a school in the Melbourne
area. I’m not entirely sure if she knew what she was signing up for. Everyone
else was dressed in hiking and outdoor gear and those of us who’d collected
firewood were already covered in dust, whereas the Canadian fashionista rocked
up in a flowy sequined top, hair done up like a pro, and flip flops more
appropriate for a cocktails near the beach than heavy walking in the Outback!
With lunch in our stomachs, Adam gave us the cultural
sensitivity talk about Uluru. The rock features in numerous Aboriginal stories
about Tjurkupa – the creation time of the world – and is a very sacred site as
it is the birthplace of the Anangu people who still reside at Uluru. As
European Australians had a penchant to do, they named the rock after the Chief
Secretary of South Australia (Ayer’s Rock) and it became known as Ayers Rock –
Mount Olga National Park, under the government of the Northern Territories
until 1985 when the park was given back to the traditional owners of the land
and renamed Uluru – Kata Tjuta National Park. One of the most popular things to
do at the park is to climb to Uluru’s summit and there is only one trail to the
top, but because of Uluru’s sacred importance to the Aboriginal communities,
doing the climb is not recommended by any of the tour companies who have access
to the park, though they all allow the tourists the option.
Finally here! Uluru!
As a geologist and someone who loves a good hike, I was
really tempted to do the climb, but when our bus pulled into the parking lot
and we saw a full charter bus-full of tourists swarming up the trail to the
summit and I just felt sick from the blatant disrespect for this sacred site. A
small group from our bus decided to do the hike, and I understand their
decision, but I thought that in the long-run, I’d feel better knowing that I
hadn’t tread on sacred ground without fully understanding its importance to the
local people. Thousands of people do the climb each year and some of them even
feel the need to pick up a little stone and take it home as a souvenir from
Uluru. In the National Park’s Visitor Centre, though, there is a binder full of
letters from people who, after taking the stones from Uluru, experienced so
much bad luck and racked with guilt that they mailed the stone back to the park
in an effort to rid themselves of their curses. These small rocks are now
collectively known as Sorry Rocks.
While the hikers did the climb, the rest of us did the short
Mala Walk to Kantju Gorge. Uluru has a lot of curves creating alcoves along its
base which are perfect for allowing water to pond and gives the appearance of
little oases in the Outback. The Mala Walk took us past a number of sites that
are featured in the creation stories of the local Anangu people. Some of the
rock caves at Uluru’s base contain carvings and petroglyphs that are thousands
of years old. The trail leads you to Kantju Gorge which features a small water
hole at the base of a cascade of steps that have eroded into the steep sides of
the rock over millennia.
By the time we got back to the parking lot, the hikers
hadn’t yet returned, so the rest of us drove around to the Mutitjulu Waterhole
around the other side of the rock where there is an even bigger waterhole and
forms in the rocks tell the story of Kuniya, a python woman who had traveled from
the east. Kuniya’s nephew had been killed by the Liru, poisonous snakes. When Kuniya
arrived, she exacted revenge for her nephew by taking her walking stick and striking
the Liru with it, killing him.
The day was getting on and sunset wasn’t far away. Next to
the Uluru climb, one of the most popular events every day is to watch the
sunset on Uluru. The bright orange sandstone takes on a new life as it’s
shadows and colours change in the dimming light. Our bus pulled into a parking
lot that was just swarming with tour
buses and vans, each with their own cohorts of tourists sitting around
make-shift tables while everyone sipped on champagne and snacked on
finger-foods while watching one of the most beautiful sunsets in the world. The
bright orange rocks faded in and out of various hues of red and pink as the sky
behind it darkened. The shadow of the western horizon slowly works its way up
the rock until the final moment when the only the tip of the rock is
illuminated a gentle pink colour before the shadow envelops the entire rock.
Even with all the people around, I was able to take a little walk down a path
where there were far fewer people and the whole sunset just becomes a peaceful
experience leaving little doubt that this gigantic rock is indeed an intensely
spiritual place.
With the sunset over, we bussed back to our campsite where
some of our group got a campfire started so we could cook dinner while the rest
of us started to prepare our beds. There were large stationary tents at the
site, but the weather was wonderfully mild and we all had the option of
sleeping in swags under the stars. Swags are nothing more than a big canvas bag
that has a rough sleeping pad inside and you then put your sleeping bag in the
swag on the pad. A canvas flap can then be pulled over your head in case it
were to rain. Swags feature heavily in Australian culture, most notably in the
song “Waltzing Matilda” in which Matilda is actually the name of the man’s
swag! I don’t think I ever met a respectable Australian who didn’t have a swag
or hadn’t spent a night in one. Being in the middle of the Outback, at Uluru,
there was, for me, little choice about spending a few nights sleeping under the
countless stars in my swag.
With our stomachs full of food and beer, it wasn’t long
before everyone was comfortably in their swags (or uncomfortably in the case of
our Canadian fashionista!) and fast asleep. It wouldn’t be too long, after all,
before we would wake up at 4 am for our next day’s worth of amazing Outback
experiences!
After a hellishly adventurous morning of hiking, soaking wet, in the rain out to New Zealand's westernmost point, I wasn't sure how much more adventure I'd be up for for the rest of the day. But then, as I was driving from Cape Reinga to Paihia, where I had accommodation booked that night, I passed the sign for Te Paki Sand Dunes and thought to myself, "I might not ever get the chance to come back this way in my life, so I might as well stop and see it now."
Coming over the first rise at Te Paki Sand Dunes
Good thing I did! Te Paki sand dunes are the highest dunes in New Zealand, and they are massive (though not as big as Sleeping Bear Dunes or Pictured Rocks). I parked my car and pulled out my rain gear, because it was still raining and I had had enough of being soaked to the bone, and crossed a shallow little stream to get to the base of the dunes. The blisters on my feet weren't enjoying being cramped up in shoes or sandals, even, so I went barefoot climbing the first steep ascent which opens up on top to a vast, wide, plateau of sand with a few rocky outcrops sticking out. On the other side of the plateau was another climb to what looked like the highest dune peak around and when I got to the top of that, I realised just how expansive the dune fields here are! According to Lonely Planet's New Zealand Guide, there are 7 square kilometres of dunes here offering all sorts of recreation activities like sand tobogganing (which you can rent from the little van in the parking lot) and the start (or end) of the famous 4WD off-roading expedition up/down 90 Mile Beach is also here.
Well, I knew I wasn't going to spend a huge amount of time here, so when I got to the top, I had a nice look around, took some photos of the area, and then starting heading down. But this wasn't just any saunter down the sandy slopes. Oh, no! Growing up going to the beaches, one of my favourite things to do was go dune jumping. Usually this involves finding a nice sturdy tussock of grass near the top of the dune, getting a running start, and then throwing yourself off that tussock into the air and landing on the downslope surface of the dune. If you land on your feet without breaking your legs, it's possible to then use that momentum and run all the way down the rest of the hill. There was no dune grass here, but the sand slope was steep and a good running start was all I needed and with arms windmilling through the air, I ran down in big, leaping steps to the sandy plateau.
Here on the plateau, one of the rock outcrops caught my interest. It was circular from above and looked almost dome-like except that while the middle of the dome and its edges were still in tact, the rest had eroded out by some means of chemical or physical weathering. Up on the dune slope I'd just run down, there were a few other people using their footsteps to make large pictures in the sand. I think the one group of kids must have been from Switzerland since they made a big square with the cross in the middle.
I crossed the sandy plateau and dune-jumped my way back down to the creek and crossed over to my car, brushed off and got back on the road. Not much further down the cape, there was a sign pointing toward "New Zealand's Northernmost Pub" and I thought I should stop in for a bite to eat and charge my phone at the same time. I figured it would be some British-esque pub with a warm fire, carved wood booths, and a generally cozy atmosphere. Boy was I wrong. This place I don't think ever was cozy or welcoming, and while the staff was friendly and accommodating, I didn't want to stay there a moment longer than I needed to and I don't suggest anyone stop here. You will be sorely disappointed!
The Whangaroa lookout
Finally, I was on the road again and kept driving for a few hours, listening to local Maori radio which had some good music on there, including a lot of Christian songs I remember singing in elementary school, but sung in Maori with a South Pacific twist. I'd read about another spot that I thought might be worth looking into. The hills in and around the town of Whangaroa (remember, in New Zealand, Wh- is pronounced F-) are generally forested except for their tops which are exposed, bare, rocky knobs made of conglomerates and granite - if I remember right! The hilltop in Whangaroa offers an awesome 360° vista of the entire area and the Whangaroa Bay right next to it. I found the parking area at the Saint Paul's Rock Scenic Reserve and started up the trail which was really slippery thanks to the mixture of mud and rain. To get to the top of the rock, though, the trail climbs up through the exposure and you need to hold on to chains fastened into the rock to pull yourself up to the top! It was a nice view indeed. Even in the gray late-afternoon you could see all the way out to the ocean, see all of Whangaroa Bay, and even an expansive oyster farm.
I didn't stay long, though, just long enough to get a 360° panoramic shot but then I got back in the car and kept driving. My destination for the night was the Aroha Island Ecological Centre, just east of Kerikeri. I'd read about Aroha Island in the Lonely Planet guide and after reading that they have a few northern brown kiwi birds living on the island, I didn't think I had a choice but to book a camping spot here! Kiwis are exceptionally rare in the wild in New Zealand. In fact, many New Zealanders haven't seen a kiwi in the wild! Since I've been on my "must see all Australian wildlife in the wild" kick, I figured I may as well add kiwis to the list and do my best to see them in their native habitat, too! And Aroha Island was the perfect place for that; they offered nightly tours of the island for an additional charge saying that most tours see a kiwi. But when I checked in, the lovely woman at the Welcome Centre said they weren't doing any tours...but that I could use one of their flashlights and have a map of the island and see if I could see them for myself!
I set up my tent in the last remaining hours of daylight and backed up all of my photos from my hiking adventures at Cape Reinga to my iPad, waiting for darkness to settle in. The woman told me that the kiwis are seen all hours of the night and that they start roaming around 10:30pm. I was told to not make much noise because while kiwis have bad eyesight, they hear very well; I was also told to use the flashlight given to me which had a red filter on it because the kiwis couldn't see that red light, and that any regular flashlight would scare them off for sure. It started raining again, though not too hard, and I figured I'd have to put my rain gear back on if I didn't want to get wet, but that meant I'd be making a lot of noise while walking along the path. The island isn't large and only take about 30 minutes to walk the perimeter, so I set off with the red light and the map.
The woman also mentioned that I would know the kiwis were there long before seeing them because they make a very distinct snuffling noise. Kiwis are different from most birds in that their nostrils are located at the end of their beaks and since they use their beaks to sift through the soil while looking for food, they constantly have to clear their airways and in doing so make a very dry wheezing sound. Well, even with that information, I couldn't hear much more than the rain dripping through the leaves and my rain pants brushing up against each other. I moved so slowly along the path, thinking every noise was a kiwi, that it took me about half an hour just to walk half the island. I started along the other half thinking I was on a wild goose - errr kiwi - chase when I heard it!
One of the two wild northern brown kiwis I saw on Aroha Island
Above the pitter-patter of the rain I thought I heard people talking and I thought it must be some other kiwi-scouts, but looking ahead, I didn't see any lights but kept hearing a dry, scraping, snuffle sound. I rounded the corner in the path, and sure enough, right in front of me, no more than 2 metres away were two adult kiwis! They were big! I mean big compared to what I imagined them. I always thought they were maybe the size of a grapefruit, but these were each the size of a rugby ball, stuck up on what looked like three spindly legs, but then I realised the third leg was just their beak! I didn't want to make too much noise but I wanted to get closer to see if I could get some photos of them with my phone. I'm not sure if it was the rain or if their hearing isn't as great as the woman told me, but I was able to sneak within a metre of them both without them realising, or caring, that I was there! I just stood there for about 20 minutes watching these amazing birds do their thing, rooting through the soil along the path looking for food, and they eventually moved off and started heading down the hill toward the water. I decided that if they were going to leave, I'd try getting a few photos of them with my flash on, and while they moved away after the first flash, they didn't seem to be terrified by it and stayed relatively close, so I took a few more before leaving them to eat in peace! I think my heart was pumping just as much as it had been that morning when I was trying not to be swept out to sea by incoming waves! Here, on tiny Aroha Island, was some young Yank who just wanted to see kiwis in the wild, and with very minimal effort was able to do what so few people have ever had the opportunity to do!
Needless to say, at the end of the day, hiking 15 kilometres, climbing a large sand dune, hiking to the top of a rocky lookout, and successfully sighting some wild kiwis, I was exhausted and slept very very well! The next morning, as I was packing up my tent, some very friendly ducks came by to wish me safe travels and to thank me for staying at Aroha Island, insisting that I recommend it to anyone who wants to have wild kiwi adventures while traveling through New Zealand. I told them I surely would!
