Checking out the mini farm, guide Riley introduces me to Benny the sheep, the resident rabbits and a pool of fat, writhing, tangled eels. “The kids love the eels,” says Riley as I shudder.

As we cruise the property’s  dusty roads, Riley points out the vertical drops and muddy pools that the 4WD ‘Mud Bugs’ experience on their adventurous route through the park. The warm air is pleasantly tinged with sweet kiwifruit blossom. We stop to let quails cross the road, and to pat Loppy the donkey. “Hello Loppy,” says Riley, rolling down his window to scratch Loppy between his long ears. “Who’s a silly donkey then?” he teases, kindly.

An experienced helicopter pilot, Riley flies for Aerius Helicopters, which operates from the park. Recently, he’s also mastered the skills of jet boat driving; skills he’s about to demonstrate on a zip up the Kaituna.

As the only passenger I do my best not to scream in delighted terror, but we dart so fast beneath hanging trees, zoom so close to the bank and whip so fast around blind corners that I can’t help myself.

“Heeeeere we goooo!” calls Riley – his signal to hold on tight. The boat flicks into a jarring spin, sending me sliding across the seat and gripping the handlebar so tightly I get blisters in the skin between my rings and the bar. “Woooo-hoooo!” I holler, buzzing from the thrill.

After a series of rapid spins and zipping corners we reach a stretch of rapids. “This is as far as we can go,” explains Riley. “Gets a bit rough from here on in.” He switches off the humming engine and we float serenely down the jewel green river, looking up at the lush native bush tumbling down the banks. Riley points out special plants and relays the river’s historical significance to local Maori.

Starting up the engine again we streak off to our starting point, dodging pukeko and careering around corners. “Heeeere we goooo!” calls Riley. I grip the handlebar…

After my exhilarating morning the Comvita Visitor Centre is a welcome oasis of sweet-scented calm. The Centre is a showcase of the work and admirable life of apiarist Claude Stratford. Claude, now a sprightly nonagenarian, owned his first beehive at the age of 11. His early fascination with bees and the health-giving properties of honey eventually led him to establish Comvita in his retirement years.

“Claude is a living testimony to the effectiveness of our products,” explains my guide as I embark on the visitor centre tour. “For over 40 years, Claude has taken a dessertspoon full of bee pollen every day.

“That’s what he puts his longevity down to.”

As well as bee pollen granules with his cereal, Claude swears by the therapeutic properties of Royal Jelly (which is the food source queen bees solely survive on throughout their life), the antioxidant effects of propolis (which is tree resin mixed with bee enzymes), and the healing qualities of honey from New Zealand’s native manuka plant.

Starting with his small, home-based business, Claude developed each of these natural commodities into a wide range of health products, forging a world-wide reputation for Comvita. Today, that small home-based business is a thriving international organisation with over 100 employees.

As I wander past a hive of buzzing bees, I’m amazed that the little wriggling creatures can provide so much benefit to humans. I scour the visitor centre shop, sampling the honey and the different health products, marvelling at the work the tiny bees have put in to it all.

“During its 34-40 day life, the average worker bee flies around 800km at 20kph, gathering 83gms of honey,” says my guide.

 I’m tired just thinking about it…

No time for a rest though, as I’m off to nearby Maketu and Briar’s Seaside Horse Treks.

I’m the only soul on Maketu’s main street as I navigate my way to Newdicks beach to meet guide Liz and my horse, Sally.

“She’s not quite Mustang Sally,” jokes Liz as she presents a rounding 17-year-old pony. “But she’s a great horse.”

I give Sally a pat on her mottled brown nose. She stares at me blankly.  With Liz’s help I swing up onto the saddle and nestle in for the ride.

Maketu, about 40km south east of Tauranga, is the perfect location for Briar’s horse trekking business. The tiny township (with a population of around 1200) was the landing site of the Te Arawa waka, believed to be one of the first arrivals of Maori to New Zealand.  Maketu is consequently an important cultural site for local Maori and, as such, much of the land here cannot be developed.

Briar’s 21 horses couldn’t ask for more, as they roam leisurely across wide open fields. We amble off across a hilly paddock (which is an old Maori pa – or village – site) to reach sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean. In the distance, Whale Island and White Island (a live volcano) rear out of the sea. Below us, Newdicks beach lies in an immaculate golden curve. At Sally’s insistence, I stop to look at the view.

Unfortunately, I’m still sitting in my viewpoint as Liz and her hefty horse start to traipse off down the hill. “Come on Sally,” I coax gently, digging my heels into her side. She doesn’t move. “Good girl, off we go,” I try, pulling on the reigns. She lets out a great huff of air and stays put.

“Sally, stop misbehaving!” scolds Liz, trotting back to rescue me. She heaves on Sally’s reigns and gives her a whack on the backside. Sally, clearly aware of who’s boss, starts a lethargic plod.

“She has days like this,” explains Liz, who learnt to ride on Sally. “Sometimes she doesn’t want to go out.”  Today is definitely one of those days. As we trot down rutted roads, through gates and across empty paddocks, Sally stops and starts, huffs and puffs and frequently tries to turn back.

Once we hit the quiet, sparkling beach, Sally changes her tune. The fresh sea wind whips her black mane from side to side and she breaks into a gentle but excited trot across the hard sand. The sun is starting to roll towards the horizon as we make our way along the beach, leading the horses into the splashing sea foam. Liz chatters happily, sharing past antics of Sally and her mates.

Suddenly, Sally stops. After a moment she decides she’s had enough and turns sharply back towards home. This time, she gets her wish and we plod back up the hill, across the paddocks and back to the stables.

After two hours on a horse, my un-equestrianed thighs twinge as I dismount. Sally stands stock still as I pat her goodbye, clearly unmoved by our adventure together. 

As I drive back along the lonely roads of Maketu I realise my hands are blistered, my haunches are aching and I’ve got a serious hankering for honey.

But what a day!

Amelia visited the Bay of Plenty courtesy of Tourism Bay of Plenty and Four Corners.