Autumn in April

Summer ended, the beach lost it's appeal, and the desire to explore farther afield returned. April kicked off autumn, a cold wind cut through the country, and it felt like the countdown to Christmas had began. These topsy-turvy seasons are going to take years to get used to.

Hope of perfect weather provoked hesitation in visiting ‘Rangitoto Island’ for a few weeks. We hadn't been here before and had heard that the views from the top were breathtaking, so there was no point going during days that were cloudy and wet.

Time slipped by and we acknowledged our procrastinating was more than slightly attributed to the after affects of a working week, and the simple desire to do ‘f-all’ at the weekend. We needed to break away from the duvet, stop making excuses, and just do it. Still, there was no point rushing into anything too early.

The 9am ferry was a nice idea, but was never realistic for a Saturday morning. However, the noon option allowed just enough time to rouse ourselves from hibernation, consume a nutritious fry-up, and pack a lunch for the grand expedition. Twenty minutes later, we’d crossed the harbour, and were standing at the foot of this geological toddler. Rangitoto, or “Nga Rangi-i-totongia-a Tama-te-kapua” as it’s known to its mother , is the largest and youngest of Auckland’s 48 volcanic cones. Its distinctive grand symmetry gives it an unwavering appearance from any direction, and the similarity to a painting’s eye that follows you around a room.

The choices of route were fairly limited, but that wasn’t the point of our trip. It just felt good to be doing something again. Seeing something new and getting away from the city. We wandered up the slopes, through varied landscape and stopped to photograph anything that looked slightly different than normal. We timed our pace to keep optimal distance between those ahead and those behind. We felt at peace.

On the way to the summit we stopped to explore the lava caves. These were not exactly the expansive tunnels leading to fiery depths, that I had hoped for, but they provided ample distraction to our day. Some were nothing more than large cracks opening a couple of metres into the rock, whereas others were fullyfledged walk-through passages.

We carried on to the top and circled the crater ring. Grey skies ruined the chance of great photos, but the distant perpective to our city life helped relax the soul. On the way back down, the battle of light against dark switched in favour, and our wait for the return ferry was in view of brighter horizons.