New Zealand

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DOLPHINS, seals and little penguins pop out of the water as we cruise past another green-fringed desert island. Except it’s not deserted after all. We turn a corner and a dozen kayaks have been dragged on to a beach, where a group of people are doing what people do round here: having a quick game of rugby.

According to the law of national stereotypes, the French stop for lunch, the British stop for tea and New Zealanders stop to watch, discuss or, preferably, play rugby. And that is why this magical country was the natural location for the sporting event of the year – the Rugby World Cup.

This may be about as far as it’s possible to travel from the Warwickshire pitch on which William Webb Ellis ‘took the ball in his arms and ran with it’ in 1823. Even so, there is a feeling that rugby has ‘come home’. This is a nation which won the first Rugby World Cup in 1987 and which manages to produce an endless supply of world-beating All Blacks from a population of just four million.

Fans from all over the world are heading there for the event, including vast numbers of Brits - all dreaming of the final in Auckland’s Eden Park on October 23. But apart from the rugby, this is a nation for every holidaymaker, whatever the budget. We flew into Auckland, before driving for three hours up North Island to the magical Bay Of Islands.

A nation for every holidaymaker

It’s a perfect spot to adjust your bodyclock to a 12-hour jump, a huge inlet peppered with islands – some like the Outer Hebrides, some more Robinson Crusoe. Take the all-day Fullers ‘Cream Trip’ in a double-decker boat. ‘We’re not allowed to say whose house that is,’ said our skipper as we passed a snazzy beach pad. ‘Russell Crowe’s,’ whispered a local behind me.

We stayed in Paihia, a buzzy little town and the main hub for the bay. The Paihia Beach Resort has a spa, which ironed out my wife’s jetlag, and huge self-catering rooms. We had not come all this way to do our own cooking, however.

Try the seafood, the lamb and the full English breakfasts in the Pure Tastes restaurant downstairs. Kiwi weather can be as varied as Britain.

If it’s not a day to be out on the water, take a five-minute drive to the tranquil Waitangi Treaty Grounds, where modern New Zealand was born in 1840. The Bay Of Islands is within striking distance of many great sights, including Cape Reinga (the Kiwi John O’Groats) and Ninety Mile Beach.

Back in Auckland, top tips for a drink (and no doubt a venue for World Cup post-match analysis) include Galbraith’s Alehouse on Mount Eden Road for its real ales, and Winehot on New North Road, which has been earmarked by the French media as the best local bistro.

There are dozens of wineries

Again leaving Auckland, we attended a friend’s wedding on enchanting Waiheke Island – great beaches and vineyards with a Californian vibe just a short ferry ride from the city. We hopped by plane from Auckland to Christchurch, picked up another hire car and drove up the coast for a couple of hours to Kaikoura.

This is a strip of a town on a rugged coast. Just a few yards offshore, though, lurks a marine Manhattan. The seabed, it turns out, rapidly falls away to a ferocious oceanic depth and supports a colossal food chain, including sperm whales and dolphins.

We stayed at Kaikoura Waterfront Apartments, just next door to Encounter Kaikoura, which has dolphin swimming down to a fine art. You are handed wetsuits, fins, masks and snorkels, then change on the premises. Next it’s a quick lecture, a bus ride to the pier and bon voyage in boatloads of 16. I opted for a dawn trip – dolphin rush-hour.

We had been going only 20 minutes when our skipper honked a horn and we were straight off the back of the boat to dive in with the dolphins. It’s like dolphin soup. Life holds few more bewitching experiences. By 9am, I was back at the Encounter Kaikoura cafe for a huge breakfast before an afternoon trip with Whale Watch Kaikoura to see snorting sperm whales thrashing the sea (definitely a non-swimming excursion).

Pure magic. From here we drove 100 miles north to a completely different paradise, the lush green coves of Marlborough Sounds. It’s a short water taxi or a long drive from the small town of Picton to lodges and hotels, such as the charming Portage Resort.

This corner of New Zealand is a cross between the Norwegian fjords, the Caribbean and the Lake District. One day we hired a small boat to view the breathtaking scenery. On another, I left Mrs Hardman by the pool and enjoyed a wine tour of Marlborough country. There are dozens of wineries, most with great restaurants. Try Allan Scott Family Winemakers – run by a Kiwi wine pioneer – or the rugby-mad Brancott Estate.

Travelling between the two, I stumbled across an unexpected gem. The Omaka Aviation Heritage Centre, housed in hangars outside Blenheim, could give the Imperial War Museum a run for its money. It’s full of early ‘warbirds’, lifesize mock-ups of World War I airbattles and masses of Red Baron memorabilia.

Supports a colossal food chain

It turns out this is where Sir Peter Jackson, Oscar winning film director, keeps his world-class aviation collection. No trip to South Island, I’d been assured, could be complete without a day or two in the Abel Tasman National Park. It reminded me of the Galapagos Islands, but without the inconvenience.

We checked in to the Grand Mercure outside Nelson, less than an hour from the park, and rounded off our fortnight with a magical day sailing from beach to beach. Abel Tasman Sailing Adventures has a fleet of catamarans that take you deep into this park. And you are just a short flight from Auckland or Wellington.