An early start this morning, as there was a long drive north and a tide to catch. The Hilux was loaded and we left; Lady Bright and her son in front, the Gentleman Friend and I behind. We caught the ferry to Opua in good time, then drove back along the coast to Paiha (of the farmer’s market) and Waitangi (of the treaty grounds). Then on to parts unknown, with the coast hidden behind densely forested hills on one side and vistas over farmland and bush to the other. As we climbed, at the foot of the hills to the right was a sign, red on white, Jesus died for our sins. On the other, in a field, white on red, Paddle your own canoe.
The reason to catch the tides was the long drive down 90 Mile Beach, which is a beach that is a designated road (although not 90 miles), at least if you are driving your own car and it is a four wheel drive. it was an incredible drive. The two Kiwis in the car kept complaining about the traffic – we passed about a dozen or so cars on that hour-long drive – but those of us from more populous parts of the world were content. The sea was very still, much more so than usual, and was deep green-blue rather than the surfy-white it usually is. On the other side were sand dunes rising up, hiding whatever lay behind. Eventually we turned off the beach to another usual road, one running up a stream bed, and splashed our way past immense sand dunes, 150 metres high. We went onwards, inland, and came to Cape Reinga, the northern-most tip, where the Tasman Sea meets the wider Pacific in a fringe of surf marking the clashing tides.
There were a series of hills here, formerly islands that had been joined up by sand deposition which then became covered with stunted vegetation. Looking back one could see cove after emerald cove, sand dunes and lush forests. Beyond, in the blue distance, was the island where Maori souls go after death, after drinking from a stream at the foot of an ancient tree clinging to a rock. And beyond that, I suppose, the Arctic.
On the way back we stopped at the dunes and the GF and I laboured our way up with a bungie board to toboggan down. Unfortunately the texture of the sand was not ideal for some reason, and no one was sliding particularly well. I somehow managed to overshoot the board several times and flew facefirst into the sand, so spent the rest of the day covered in sand. Fun nonetheless, though not quite as adrenalin-raising as when we did the same in Siwa.
The next stop was on the beach where Lady Bright and the GF went for a swim. Her son and I decided the water was too cold for us so we stood on the beach, which turned out to be absolutely filled with clams. Most were tiny, too small to be collected (there are strict rules here about that) though I found one which was about 5 centimetres long, but I put it back.
The next stop was the small town of Mangonui, half of which was on a nearly circular bay and the other half on a longer bay. The latter has a very (world-famous, if the sign is to be believed) fish and chip shop. We ordered, waited the half hour for it to come, and very good it was too. It was a fish whose name I forget that we had previously had baked – quite firm, like halibut. Not as flaky a fish as I like for fish and chips but fresh and well-cooked. There was also a choice of chips: fat, skinny and beer-battered (I insisted on fat).
We continued towards Russell, taking a longish detour to visit a kauri forest. These are delicate but immense trees, straight and pale barked, like something from Lothlorien. They were in dense jungle, like a temperate version of Taman Negara.
Then we returned, had dinner (in a far more convival mood than the previous day, largely because prior drinking had not been indulged in). Tomorrow is my final full day in New Zealand.