If you haven’t read part one, I suggest doing that just to catch yourself up on the first few days 🙂
We zipped along the road, the river racing along next to us. There was nowhere to stop, and there were times we got stuck behind trucks, which meant our speed dropped dramatically and we could look around a bit. 😉
We decided to stop for lunch at the Tauranga Bridge, the oldest and only surviving harp suspension bridge in New Zealand. Built in 1922 for sheep farmers to access the hills on the far side of the gorge, it fell into disrepair in the 1970s when farmers stopped using the bridge and by 1990 it was falling apart. In 1994 and 1996, significant structural work was done on the bridge by the Department of Conservation and again in the early 2000s. The river below was rushing across the rocks and we played around with pictures for a little while before finding a path down to the river and the rocky shore. Another five minutes there and I think we would have jumped in for a swim. As it was, we were both hungry.
Back at the shelter, there were three construction workers looking very lazy. As we ate, one of them came over and said, “hey guys, just do you know we’re going to have a helicopter coming in here, if you wouldn’t mind moving.” So, we moved and the helicopter set down about ten feet from where we had been. Lunch debris flew everywhere. A few other cars had come in and there were people milling everywhere. Two of the workers jumped into the copter and the third attached a chain to a large telephone pole. The rotors started whirring and the copter lifted up slowly. As he gained altitude, the pole lifted up and they subsequently swung out over the gorge and away from us. I walked over to the third guy and asked what they were doing (and also if I could get a quick ride!): they were replacing power poles along the gorge, but because of the hills, they need to install it from the helicopter. And no, I couldn’t get a ride. Damn!
We packed up and left then… but we both sort of really wanted a swim so when we saw a little turn off that looked promising, we pulled off the road. We cruised down the tiny gravel road and parked at the waters edge; we weren’t the only ones either. After a quick change we crept into the water. I hate plunging in to chilly water, but it seemed like it was needed. Paul dove straight in and almost immediately was swept downstream by the current. It was time to play around so we had a little mini photoshoot on the shore and lazed in the sun. Finally, we decided we needed to get a move on if we wanted to make Mount Maunganui by dinnertime. As it was, that was what happened! We stopped twice more: once in Whakatane at another waterfall and at a sacred Maori cave, and again in Mount Maunganui at the grocery (for wine and beer only!)
Mount Maunganui deserves its own post, and not for good reasons, sadly. It was not a positive experience, even though I liked the town and the beach. Stay tuned.
We were up early the next day, mostly thanks to the light that streamed through the skylights in the hostel. Paul and I wanted to go for a hike up the mount, and we both knew that if we did it any later than 8am, we would be incredibly hot. It was already a steamy morning when we stepped outside, but we powered through the two hour hike. I think the views from the top are great: you can see for miles out into the Pacific Ocean. The coastline along the peninsula is one long white sand beach with dark green trees on the edge. It was still early, so the sun was a bright orange glittering off the crashing waves below. Surfers were out in full force already and the beach was beginning to fill up.
After checking out and packing up, we stopped in town for coffee and wifi and then we went out to the beach for a picnic lunch. After that, it was time to hit the road. Our next stop was the Coromandel peninsula. We were both really excited about this – Paul had read about a good hike, and it’s a pretty remote location which I totally love.
We flew up the coastal road. to our left, I could see the conical peak in the centre of Te Urewera National Park. Paul’s Lonely Planet guidebook says it still instills fear into the white New Zealander; I never asked anyone. Driving through the Karangahake Gorge, we stopped at the Owharoa waterfall for a swim. It was crowded. Kids were swimming across the deep pool, climbing the rocks, and jumping. There was also a hole where you could stand up behind the waterfall; plenty of people were cramming in there, their selfie sticks sticking out through the falling water. Myself, I sat on a submerged rock and soaked in the sun and fresh water.
We stayed for maybe twenty minutes and then climbed back into the car. We hadn’t planned on stopping again, but we passed a sign for a winery and suddenly that seemed like a really good idea. We pulled up a tiny, one lane gravel road that curved seductively into the forest. It led us into the parking lot of a hotel/winery and stepped out.
We opted for a delicious tasting – six half glasses for $27 – and some time to sit in the shade and dry off after the waterfall swim. The winemaker was there and we chatted briefly about the Pinot Gris and Gewurtztraminer – two wines that were unexpectedly phenomenal.
The drive up the Coromandel’s west coast was stunning. In Thames, we began to follow the coastal road that twisted and turned along the Hauraki Gulf. To the west, we could make out the islands of Waiheke and Rangitoto just outside of Auckland. We pulled into Coromandel Town in the late afternoon. Our hostel was tucked away on a side street dead end – an oasis of lush fruit trees, lawn and vines. Our host, Si, showed us around – including his “famous” outdoor shower. After settling in, I tried out the outdoor shower: surrounded by corrugated metal and mosaiced tiles, glass bottles, and cement. There was a surprising high water pressure and the water was nice and hot. I could hear the people moving around the dorm, and I could also glimpse movement through the slits in the “room.” That was alright: I was taking a shower outside and it was awesome.
Paul set the pasta on while I was doing this and we used up our stuffed peppers from Gisborne for dinner. Afterwards, we decided to read up on the next day’s activity and then explore the town. We found one good bar and had a drink there; Caragh was right: CT was dead, even on a Saturday.
I can’t say enough good things about our next day. I’ve compared the Coromandel to Donegal in Ireland: a remote peninsula with nothing more than one lane roads, sheer cliffs, incomparable scenery, gorgeous blue waters, and green, green rolling hills. I can’t even share enough photos for you to get the idea. I’ll try, but i was overwhelmed by the beauty of the far north Coromandel. Just, wow.
We left early – we actually weren’t going back to CT that night so we loaded up the car (we woke Si up to give our keys back, even though it was definitely close to 8:30!) and drove north. At Colville, we were given an option: left or right. We went left, toward the gulf side and Fletcher Bay. Two hours and many, many roadside stops later, we rolled into Fletcher Bay. It’s literally the end of the road: while the road does go up the east side to Stony Bay, the two don’t connect. Instead, there is the Coromandel Coastal Walkway – a three and a half hour hike through lush forest. Paul really wanted to do this, so I suggested that he hike it and I drive back around. I estimated that I could be at Stony Bay with an hour or so to kill at the beach before he got there.
I underestimated the drive. I cruised out of Fletcher Bay and stopped at the top of the hill. I took some photos back toward the cliffs and looked for Paul’s red hat. When I saw him climb through the stile that marked the start of the trail, I got back into the car, cranked the music up (Dire Straits) and flew. I forded the creek a little way down – I will say I was a little worried when we did it the first time, but Paul got out and guided me through. This time, I knew our zippy car could handle it. One perk to driving through a creek? The dust isn’t as bad right there. I passed some bicyclists, few other cars. Mostly, I was alone on the road, winding my way up and down the seaside mountains. I stopped some more and took more pictures. I just couldn’t (still can’t, as I write this and think back on the trip) get over the grace with which the gravel road swooped around the hillsides and back down to the coast. The rocks below were a dark grey, their crags filled with the tide pools, the waves pounding across them.
I hit Colville around the same time that Paul texted to say he was halfway. This is when I realised I underestimated the drive: I too was only halfway. I passed the turnoff for CT and followed the road toward Stony Bay. This road went through several towns in the valley before climbing again. In the rearview mirror, I could see Kennedy Bay in the distance, and Whitianga beyond that. The road narrowed again at Sandy Bay and I turned off toward Stony Bay – another 9km down a very, very tiny road. It’s another dead end here: another DoC campsite and a stone-covered beach. I found a nice spot for my towel, changed into a bikini and dozed in the sun. Too soon, a shadow came across me and Paul was back.
I let Paul drive back, even though I was itching to get behind the wheel and fly around the curves of the road. We opted for a new route into Whitianga: a valley road that climbed across the western hills back toward CT. From the Far North, you basically have to go back through CT on the way into Whitianga and then back across the hills further south. We cruised into Whitianga around 7pm, hungry and tired. After debating about dinner, we just walked across the street to the sports bar.
The next four pictures are from Paul, who has kindly shared them with you so you can see how incredible his hike was. Since I just saw these when he emailed me, I have to say… I wish I had done the hike! Enjoy!
The next morning, we grabbed a spade from the hostel and chucked it in the back of the car: we were off to Cathedral Cove and Hot Water Beach. Again – there is not much I can say or show you to really get across how incredible Cathedral Cove and HWB are. The hike down to the cove is about 45 minutes and surprisingly the beach wasn’t too crowded. We walked through the hole in the rock, we stood under the towering rock on the far side, and then we laid out our towels on the beach and slept in the hot sun. The water wasn’t really conducive to swimming, but there were people standing in the surf. I found another little cave and I also climbed out onto the rocks.
Hot Water Beach is another story. It’s only really accessible at low tide for hot pools, so we had a late lunch in Hahei and then cruised out there. We arrived around 4 – low tide was at 3 – and the place was packed. It also turns out – this is not mentioned in the guidebooks, by the way – that there’s really only about two metres of beach space where the hot water is. And those two metres were jam packed with people. Paul began to dig but gave up after about thirty seconds. I lasted a little longer but a wave crashed up on us and we had to dive for our stuff. My GoPro floated off – luckily I grabbed it quickly – and my flip flops went opposite directions into the surf.
After that, instead of digging our own hole, I went and dug my toes into the sand near where everyone was holed up: it was hot, hot, hot water! How Water Beach was honestly kind of underwhelming: if you’re there right at low tide, and it’s quiet, I’m sure it’s amazing to have your own private, free hot pool. But at peak season in the summer, with the tide coming in? Nah.
We skipped out to the Hot Water Brewing Company instead. Paul tried a few of their beers while I fainlly got to have a taste of Vynyard’s Sparkling Riesling: I had heard about it while wine-tasting in Martinborough, but never tried it. Freakin’ delicious! I hadn’t been able to find it in a store, so I contented myself with drinking a glass at the bar.
That evening was our last. We packed up, organised our stuff, talked about what time to leave in the morning. All too soon, Road Trip NZ was over! After picking up our daily coffee, we left Whitianga early the next morning. It’s a three hour drive to Auckland, but we anticipated traffic and mountain roads, both of which happened.
I can’t say enough good things about our road trip north. Paul and I had a great time and we didn’t kill each other, which we agreed was successful. Huge thanks to Ace Rental Cars for supplying us with our little Mazda – we both agree it was a good car. It held all of our stuff (that’s a big deal!) and it also handled the roads – both paved and gravel – and the curves of the mountain roads really well. We had a good experience with Ace’s customer service too. If you’re heading to New Zealand, I’d highly recommend renting a car through Ace!
*In exchange for this post, I received a discount on an Ace Rental Car*
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