Auckland

We’re just here for a few days before heading off the Chile and I’ve booked us into the Heritage (www.heritage.co.nz) , formerly the Farmers department store for 80 years, so it’s full of character as well as old wooden floors.

The City of Sails, as Auckland is alternatively known (due to its having the highest number of boats per head anywhere in the world) is on a narrow strip of land, sandwiched between 2 harbours, surrounded by islands and 48 volcanic hills, so you’re never far from a beautiful coastal vista.

Will gets the best view of our location when he ascends the 328m high Sky Tower and jumps off at 192m for a 16 second, 75kph base wire jump (more like a parachute jump than a bungy. He’s making the most of this cheaters form of parachuting as he’s too heavy for the real McCoy where the maximum weight allowance is 100kg (note, he’s just made me amend this to 100kg, but it’s actually 105kg) …) just as the sun is setting. He flies to the ground like a heffalump on acid (although he says it was a gentle glide) and can’t believe his luck when they offer him a second jump for free (they obviously like a giggle…). Down on the ground below, we can’t believe our eyes as we watch him dangling high above the ground like a manic Spiderman, arms and legs flailing furiously, as the try to get him into position for a good photo.

Not sure whose nerves need calming more as we head for dinner to Viaduct Harbour, resplendent with huge yachts and motorboats moored up. We watch as some oik in a baseball cap makes a complete hash of mooring his beautiful 40ft cruiser and reflect how money can’t buy you brains, although it does appear to have bought this guy a wife at least 10 years younger than himself.

There’s a plethora of restaurants to choose from down here but we don’t choose too wisely, blinded maybe by the offer of $5 cocktails in one. The kids eat well with their Stonegrills (essentially a piping hot square of stone on which you cook your own meat to your liking) but Will’s $10 rack of ribs apparently tastes like something Kerry Katona would serve up (i.e. something cheap and dodgy from Iceland, not chips dipped in ketamine).

We’re car-less so the Auckland Explorer bus gives us a one hour tour of the city and we hop off at the Auckland Museum for a bit of Maori culture, including the magnificent 25m long war canoe, carved from a single tree. We’re also treated to a traditional Maori song and dance (waiata and haka) and, whilst Ruby is entranced by the female poi dancers, Harley’s taking in the fact that these guys are allowed to poke out their tongue without being told off for it, a fact he later took full advantage of.

We walk the entire length and back of the K-road (almost as unsightly as K-Fed) looking for a good place for dinner and end up on Ponsonby Road in a promising looking curry house. This time, we fare better on the food and the kids are left hungry as their “mild” lamb korma comes out hot enough to take the skin off your tongue. We’re not doing very well on the meal front.