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Summer Holidays on the Road, thank you Mary-Clare

It's fair to say that 2008 was pretty quiet as far as travelling and adventuring were concerned but we're hoping to at least partly make up for that this year.

In early January, we had a visit from Mary Clare, a friend from Ireland, so we took her on a whirlwind tour of the North Island and once and for all disproved the myth that "New Zealand is a lot like Ireland".

First stop was Napier for three days of sunshine and wine. We took a full day vineyard tour, sampling some of the best wines of the region.

It was informative, relaxed and just slightly boozy with the daytime temperature soaring to near an unIrish 30 degrees. The next day was spent at another vineyard, a boutique brewery, and for the sake of sobriety, a chocolate factory and an olive farm. Then it was on to the beach which funnily enough was not like Ireland either.

Our next destination was Rotorua where we visited the hidden thermal valley at Orakei Korako, soaked in hot-pools and visited the site of the eruption on that terrible night in 1886 .

Rotorua is also not a bit like anywhere in Ireland. Mary Clare tried to get a treatment at the (alleged) Worldwide Top 10 Polynesian Spa but they refused to accept her as she had "a bit of a cold". Laughable when you consider that people used to visit Rotorua to be cured of TB and all manner of other nasty diseases. The next day, while I fished, Jane and Mary Clare climbed a mountain. Yes, really. Then we went on to find a much nicer (and cheaper) hot pool complex at Waikite.

Our final night was at another relatively unknown thermal site at the southern end of Lake Taupo - a chance for one more hot-pool, a leisurely stroll around nearby Lake Rotopounamu, and finally, an ascent of the North Island's Highest peak, Mount Ruapehu - by chairlift, obviously. The view from the top of the chairlift in no way reminded Mary Clare of anywhere in Ireland and we were forced to concede that the two countries are "quite different".

The week was over all too soon and shortly after that it was time to say goodbye to Mary Clare. The act of entering the departures area of an airport without going anywhere except back to an empty car was more than we could stand. So we promptly went home and booked a trip to New Caledonia for Bastille Day. The jet-set lifestyle is set to resume.