Day 51, in which we fly to Taupo and meet an insect or two thousand

This morning we drove to Nelson airport, handed back our car and checked in for our 10am flight to Wellington. Being used to international airports, we arrived two hours early and so she checked us on the 8am flight to Wellington instead. We panicked a little about getting through security in time and high-tailed it round to the security desk, where a bored looking man explained “the plane has to be here before you can board it”. Paul asked what sort of security procedures they undertake, noting that in the UK you have your photograph taken, your shoes x-rayed and occasionally a full body pat-down. He frowned. “No,” the security guard said.

Sure enough, the plane arrived five minutes later and a bunch of people got off, and then they opened the doors at security and herded us through unchecked onto the plane. We were carrying bottles of water far more than 100ml in volume and at no point had anyone checked our identity. It is funny how quickly you get used to extremely convoluted administrative procedures.

At Wellington we had to wait several hours for our connecting flight to Taupo, but at least this airport had shops and caféto while away our time in. The plane from Nelson was tiny, but the plane to Taupo even smaller: the passenger cabin was the height of one person and about half as wide, with a direct view into the cockpit. We were delayed for several more hours, as planes this small cannot take off in the fog and – once a strong breeze had blown away the fog – we found they cannot take off in such a strong breeze either.

Taupo airport was the smallest yet, comprising a field and a building only slightly more imposing than a portakabin, so it was not difficult to find Michelle, the chatty lady from Rent-A-Dent who gave us our car for the fortnight. We soon found ourselves motoring down to the Old Smokehouse, a lovely old beach house on the shores of Lake Taupo, the largest freshwater lake in New Zealand. We have fabulous views and the sunset is amazing, but the house is rather run-down and the evening was an endless battle against an onslaught of insects. We've realised that the rules for dealing with insects at night are the same as for dealing with a zombie apocalypse: close all windows, seal off all entry points, close curtains and blinds and keep lights off. We ended up having a romantic bottle of wine by candlelight, while watching a tv show about a 'family wipe-out' murderer.

We've stocked the house up with food and wine from the supermarket in our nearest town, Turangi, but we don't intend to ever go back. The town was built as a temporary settlement while a nearby hydroelectric scheme was built, and is now severely neglected and strikingly different to the wealthy and tourist friendly Taupo in the north. We went to the local fish and chip shop – Grand Central Fry – on the recommendation of the guidebook, and while the food was really very nice the rest of the customers all looked so emotionally and/or physically broken it was a thoroughly depressing experience. The town as a whole seems to have the highest proportion of broken people we've seen yet in New Zealand, which is a great shame but we will still be going the extra 30km next time to shop in Taupo instead.