The art of doing nothing on a cruise
Sailing off into the sunset, drinks in hand and second helpings from the seafood buffet before us, mum and I were so relaxed, we felt like we'd been on holiday for a week.
In fact, it had only been a few hours and we were still in Auckland. But that's the thing about the Azamara Journey, a boutique 690-guest cruise liner that prides itself on the petite frame that enables it to enter ports others can't and longer-than-usual shore stays.
Stepping into its newly made over atrium with its grand stairwell and 1920s-style decor, you feel as if you've entered a time warp. Been transported back to an era when travel was for the rich and glamorous; when amazing service and complimentary luxuries were par for the course.
Embarking in Auckland for Azamara's maiden 15-night tour of New Zealand and New Zealand, mum and I started as we meant to go on: by indulging in as much delicious food - which ranges from haute cuisine to hamburgers and fries - as our stomachs could stand.
The sunny afternoon called for something relatively light, however, so we opted for miso salmon salads to go with our welcome glasses of bubbles (piled high with grilled veggies and condiments from the buffet of course).
While a tour of New Zealand mightn't sound exotic, it turned out to be a perfect - and perfectly relaxing - way to see parts of the country we never had before. Cruising down toward the Bay of Plenty and rounding the East Cape before heading past remote Cape Palliser to Wellington provided a new perspective of our fair Northern isle; brought home just how wild and dramatic (in multiple senses) it can be.
Stretched out that first night on double bed-sized sunloungers, cocktails in hand and enjoying the boat rockin' beats of the Drums of the Pacific music and dance crew, it was hard not to feel proud of our Island heritage.
Sadly, the skies darkened that night and we awoke to rain lashing down on a swirling sea. Not exactly the Bay of Islands experience we'd been hoping for, but we were determined to make the best of it.
The ship's tenders dropped us off in Paihia and from there I booked a spur of the moment speedboat tour to Piercy Island (aka The Hole in the Rock).
If I'd waited the few minutes it took for the sudden downpour to subside, I might have decided that heading out in a small open-air boat on such a day wasn't such a great idea. But, decked out in the provided ankle-length raincoats, a few fellow (fool?)-hardy travellers and I zipped off toward Cape Brett; crashing through the surging swell.
While the rain on my face felt like thousands of tiny pin pricks, the ride was an adrenaline rush like no other and going by the whoops of my fellow passengers they agreed. The skipper showed us the golden beach where Captain Cook first set foot in the Bay and sent his Tahitian cabin boy to win favour (and food and fresh water from the local Maori). Deserted and backed by thick native bush, it must look much, if not just, as it did in the English captain's day (cue another time warp experience).
The gloomy weather seemed entirely apt when the skipper relayed the history of Roberton Island; telling us how the whaling captain who'd bought it from Ngapuhi chiefs in 1839 had died in a boating accident, leaving his wife and two children behind.
Mrs Roberton had enlisted two young men - an Aussie and a Maori - to help out with the farm and, when the former beat the latter, he sought revenge. The Maori lad, Maketu Wharetotara, cracked his Aussie colleague's skull with an axe, killing him instantly, and when Mrs Roberton expressed horror at what he'd done, he did away with her and the kids too. Wharetotata became the first person to be legally hanged in New Zealand after being convicted by a British court.
Heading further up the cape, the swell grew larger still and, with us passengers clinging onto our seats (and cellphones) for dear life, the skipper made the wise call to drop us off in Russell, giving us ferry tickets to return to Paihia. Mum and I enjoyed a lazy stroll around NZ's first European settlement before refuelling with a smoked crab salad at the historic Duke of Marlborough Hotel and vowing to return during the summer.
Overnight, the weather went from bad to abysmal and we were woken several times by objects crashing to the ground. At breakfast, the captain informed us that high winds had made the planned stop in Tauranga impossible so we would spend the day at sea. While some passengers were visibly sickened by developments, mum was thrilled to be experiencing a real-life storm at sea. Banishing all thoughts of the Titanic, I was thrilled by a day of enforced relaxation.
Guilty about our overindulgences, mum and I wobbled our way to the gym: a well-stocked space with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the still-surging sea. Topping up our energy levels afterwards with another enormous lunch - of Moroccan chicken salad followed by chocolate gelato this time - we headed to the spa: she for a haircut and me for a facial.
We soon got into a routine of heading to the 'living room', with its comfy chairs, fabulous views and live guitar or piano music, in the evenings for Spanish-style tapas and wine.
Staff are on hand to help you match your food and drinks and, as with everywhere on the ship, seem to have a sixth sense enabling them to materialise the moment you need them. We treated ourselves to dinners at the two specialty restaurants you pay extra for: Italian-style Aqualina and steak house Prime C.
Both offer incredible value for their US$30 a head price tags, with exquisitely-cooked three course meals, as much wine as you care for and that outstanding service.
Skipping Tauranga meant we arrived at Napier early and my 2pm Hawke's Bay winery tour was brought forward to 9am. Somewhat regretting the rich Aussie shiraz I'd imbibed the previous evening, I nevertheless enjoyed the drive through the rolling (and thanks to the rain) vividly green countryside to Mission Estate.
While I'd been to the winery founded by French missionaries before, I'd never taken the time to listen to its fascinating history which, spoiler alert, features a dangerous trek with vines in tow after mistaking Gisborne for Hawke's Bay, a catastrophic fire, the Maori land wars, and Napier's disastrous 1931 earthquake.
The monks' faith presumably inspired them to soldier on and build what it is now one of the region's best-loved wineries. Hawke's Bay's generally warm, dry climate enables it to grow a wide variety of grapes and our group reaped the benefits at Sileni and Ngatarawa Stables as well. The Americans were pleased they can buy bottles of the Sileni and Ngatarawa varieties back home, but disappointed they can't do the same with Mission Estate (the winery has yet to strike a distribution deal there).
After the inevitable long lunch, mum and I had just enough time for a power walk up and down the peaceful, villa-lined streets that surround central Napier, rekindling dreams of potentially relocating to somewhere less hectic one day.
Our approach to Wellington was a highlight of the trip: mum and I were on treadmills at the gym when we spotted pod after pod of dolphins race across the now-calm blue waters toward the ship. Wellington also turned on the best weather, showering me in sunshine as I strolled the buzzing waterfront, stopping to take a dip at Oriental Bay before climbing Mt Victoria for a panoramic view of the city which, after a year in America, seemed like a Kiwi San Francisco.
That night, guests were treated to a show at Te Papa led by local acting legend Temuera Morrison. We were welcomed with a typically poignant powhiri before walking the red carpet to the entrance, where we were offered bubbly and bite-sized pavlovas (as if we needed any more booze and food).
The overseas men got into the spirit of learning the haka with vigorous thigh slapping and foot stamping, while the Modern Maori Quartet had us all clapping along to their blend of classic and modern tunes. A highpoint of the evening for many though was the Peter Jackson-directed WWI exhibition, which tells the story of Kiwi soldiers in Gallipoli featuring larger-than-life models made by the wizards at Weta Workshop.
The amazingly realistic models, 3D projections and cinematic sound effects create as accurate an impression of what it must have felt like for those soldiers as possible. It's certainly an experience I won't forget.
Due to leave the ship in Wellington, mum and I made the most of our final day by (you guessed it) indulging in yet more food. Our final meal was a suitably sublime combo of melt-off-the-bone locally-sourced lamb shanks, Greek-style chicken and roast kumara rounded off with lemon sorbet. Triple the usual vitamins and minerals have got to be good for you I'm sure.
Disembarking was a depressing experience: we were reluctant to leave the floating community that had provided more than we had thought to hope for over the past few days, leaving us in a state of (perhaps over)satiated bliss. Azamara we will be back (if our bank balances allow that is).
Written by Lorna Thornber. First appeared on Stuff.co.nz.
The writer was a guest of Azamara Club Cruises.