Our
next destination was the Kauaeranga
Valley in
Coromandel Forest park where a clutch of DOC campsites are set in a
forest environment. A long gravel road took us up from the modern but
shut Info Centre towards the site, more basic this time, no showers
or kitchen but water from a stream and toilets ... all you really
need anyway.
We
set up camp and made food – the tent was really suffering at this
stage, sagging in and we'd been lucky it hadn't rained – the
masking tape wasn't enough - we needed a new pole or a new tent but
it would have to do. We taught
Sylvia and Oli cacho and played into the night. The sky was
unbelievably clear and with no light pollution at all we were able to
see more stars than even depicted on the planosphere. Unbelievably
beautiful. At some point in the evening, as we emptied the carton of
wine, Sylvia had an accident with one of the candles and one of the
sleeping bags. There seemed to be some tension so we retreated to
watch the sky before retiring.
Birdsong
and strong sunlight awoke us and we left the camp for the day. Sylvia
and Oli weren't talking after the previous night's debacle and a
silence descended on the car as we drove across the peninsula towards
Hot Water Beach, a place Claire had told me about which intrigued me.
We arrived and I rented a spade.
Hot
Water beach is a truly bizarre place, where the tectonic fault is so
thin that you can dig a hole in the beach at low tide and the
seawater that rushes in is geothermicaly heated. Understandably the
beach was beset with tourists vying for digging spots although by the
time we were there most of the areas were taken except for the super
hot place directly above the fault, so hot that it was impossible to
stand on the sand for more than a few seconds. We wandered about
looking for somewhere to squat down and luckily some Irish people in
a pool overheard my accent as I passed. They said they had had enough
of being Irish Stew and gave us their pool. “Watch out for the
spuds” was their passing remark. We sat and enjoyed the sensation
of the sandy jacuzzi without bubbles for an hour or so as the tide
came in and eventually destroyed the pointless reinforcements I had
made. Cool water flowed in and quenched the heat. We had a terse
lunch overlooking the beach, Claire and I making conversation but not
getting much out of Sylvia.
Onwards
and upwards to Cathedral Cove, a place that I had seen for the first
time just beforehand in the Narnia movie “Prince Capsian” (we
bought a rip off DVD of it in Buenos Aires). It was a 30 minute hike
down through flowering bushes with great views of islands in a
turquoise sea. I would have thought we were in Thailand if I didn't
have a NZ stamp in my passport. The cove itself is amazing – 2
silver sandy beaches separated by a gleaming white cliff but joined
by a cave through the cliff, formed by long years of sea and wind
erosion. We had probably the nicest dip in the sea I think I've ever
had and played frisbee with Oli, Sylvia preferring to sunbathe.
Sandy, we made our way back to the campsite, radio silence being
maintained in the front seats (not even a few tunes!) for the 2 hour
drive. We made it to Thames' Warehouse in time to buy a replacement
tent and headed back.
