Where else in the world would your tour guide announce he's practically brand new in his role, divulge that he expected to be underwhelmed when he first did the trip on which you're about to embark, and then fill you with wine and lead you off across a darkened lake in a kayak?
You've got to love New Zealand. And you've got to love Drew.
Our guide for this evening's night kayaking trip, Drew first paddled on Lake McLaren here in the Bay of Plenty when he was 9 years old. Some 20 years and countless worldly adventures later he's back in the Bay, guiding at local kayak adventure centre Waimarino.
"There's a certain uniqueness about this place," says Drew as our van rolls to a stop on the shore of Lake McLaren just before sunset.
"For starters, it's the only place in New Zealand where you can go glow worm kayaking."
This is precisely why I'm here. Of course, glow worms need darkness, so whilst the sun toys gently with setting, glittering its last long rays across the lake, Drew gets to work.
With a flick of the wrist, he flourishes a long black cloth over a small table he's produced from the van. As inquisitive ducks waddle around our feet and native birds present a dusk symphony, Drew lays a delectable array of cut fruit, cheese and crackers out before us."Red or white?" he enquires, indicating the selection of wines he's brought along.
With a local chardonnay in one hand and a stack of blue cheese in the other I begin to realise this is not your average kayaking trip.
As we excitedly discuss the adventure ahead of us, Drew lets us in on a secret.
"I only did this trip for the first time three weeks ago and, to be honest, I expected to be underwhelmed by the glow worms."
Topping up our wine glasses he adds, "I mean, I've seen glow worms before, you know? But this... this is really something else!"
His honesty adds to our building anticipation and as the sun finally slips behind the Kaimai ranges, the four of us gear up and slide into our kayaks.
We glide stealthily across the darkened lake, following the ripple of the water and the beacon of Drew's voice.
We're paired up into double kayaks. Seated in the rear, I'm in charge of steering; a task that isn't easy in the increasing darkness. Slowly, however, my eyes begin to adjust to the dark. I see a small island and veer around it; I note the tall trees lining the sides of our narrowing path and manage to steer clear of the enclosing banks. Birds twitter, and occasionally splash, as we glide by.
As we paddle blindly onwards we make out a low humming sound. It gets louder and louder as we go. Finally, rounding a corner we come to the source: a power station.
Lake McLaren was formed in the 1920s as part of the local hydro electricity scheme. The nearby McLaren Falls power station was decommissioned in 1989 but there are now three other stations generating power for the scheme: one of which is the Lower Mangapapa. Although quiet during the warmer summer months, the Lower Mangapapa station is in full swing tonight and guides us across the darkened water with its steady, humming sonar.
"If you just wait here, I'll go and check the water level," calls Drew above the station's drone. We stop paddling. My ears fill with the buzz of power generation. My eyes dart hopelessly about, seeing nothing. Our kayak bobs and floats at the mercy of the water's flow. I'm suddenly frightened."It's ok!" calls Drew. "Come on over!" He flashes his light and as I exhale in relief, we paddle towards him and into a narrow channel.
"Welcome to glow worm central," says Drew. Even though I can't see his face, I can tell he's smiling.
There is a collective intake of breath as we absorb the sight before us. Hundreds, no, thousands of glow worms are suddenly glittering through the darkness like stars. They're everywhere, twinkling from either side of the silent stream down which we gently paddle, and upwards - so high that I can't tell where the glow worms end and the night sky begins.
A trickling waterfall breaks our silence. We breathe out with expressions of "wow!" and "oooo!" - rendered inarticulate by awe.
Buoyed silently through the darkness, staring up at the endless, sparkling milky way of insects I feel as if I'm floating through outer space.
That is until I forget about my steering duties and inadvertently guide our kayak into a rock.
Reluctant to leave we hover in the glow worms' presence for a few moments longer, enjoying their peaceful, dazzling company.
On our paddle back to the van, we're all silent. A pair of swans honks loudly in our direction as we drift past them and their signets. The trilling of morepork emanates from the surrounding forest. Our paddles swish soothingly across the still water, and our minds are all aglitter with visions of a thousand glow worms.
Really, you've got to love New Zealand.
Amelia experienced Waimarino's Lake McLaren Glow Worm Tour courtesy of Tourism Bay of Plenty, Waimarino and www.fourcorners.co.nz.
