The Pacific Highway

The last time we blogged was in Taupo, right now we are in Rotorua a mere 50 miles away but it has taken us all this time to get here. I’ll explain how.

Instead of taking the easy option and drive up Highway 1 to get to Rotorua we opted for the much longer and much more scenic coastal route. On the night of our bungy day we drove to Hawkes Bay on the Pacific Coast and spent a couple of days in and around Napier. The region had just had a week of none stop rain but fortunately for us we brought the sunny weather from Taupo with us. On one day we wandered around the town’s Art Deco streets, where there seemed to be more cafes than shops, while on another we simply strolled along the beach and watched the rather rough waves crash on the shore. Somewhere in between we visited a honey making centre called Arataaki Honey where we watched live hives and then got to sample loads of different types of honey, by the end of it we both had eaten too much honey, felt sick and didn’t want to buy any of it.

After enjoying Napier and its surrounds we drove northwards along Hawkes Bay and stopped here and there to see some of the beaches that the region is known for. On the way we had to skirt around a boulder of astronomical size that blocked most of the road, which had become dislodged from the cliff above in all the rain, it was a very odd sight and quite unnerving. That evening we stayed in a town called Wairoa, about halfway between Napier and Gisborne. Which strangely we learned on the news that same night has over 20% of its residents on benefits, New Zealand’s highest claiming town. I think this was the only interesting thing about the town, and it’s a stretch to call that interesting. In the morning we drove to Gisborne, ready to be dazzled by the country’s most easterly town, but after spending a few hours driving and walking around we left thoroughly unimpressed. But hope was not lost as we were now about to embark upon a 400km drive around the East Cape which began with a visit to the longest wharf in NZ at Tolaga Bay, it was huge (660m to be precise) and jutted straight out into the sea. Built in the 1920’s it was in constant use for many years but in recent history had fallen into disrepair and was off limits to any traffic from 1998. In the last few years it has been made safe again and is now open to foot traffic only. We walked to the end of it, watched a few people fishing off the end, and walked back again. A little bit further along the east cape we left the main road and wound our way down to Anaura Bay, a brilliant flat golden beach, as luck would have it there was a campground right on the beachfront, although the grass area that made up the campground was completely saturated from the recent downpours and so we picked our parking spot very carefully. At the same time a Dutch couple, who we had briefly met in Napier and again seen on the wharf, were picking their spot too, when we were all settled they invited us over for a bottle of wine and we spent the rest of that afternoon and evening eating, drinking and chatting with Joyce and Edgar, who I’m quite sure had better English than most English people and we were surprised to hear the words ‘quaint’ and ‘jiffy’ pop up. It was nice to hear about other people’s travels and experiences and they agreed that Gisborne was vastly overrated which made us feel better. In the morning, after a very early but truly spectacular sunrise, we exchanged details and went on our way, we probably wouldn’t see them again on this trip as they only had 2 weeks left so were in a bit more of a rush than us.

The further around the East Cape we got the more spectacular the beaches and scenery got and the sadder and more depressing the towns got. But we weren’t here to see the towns and before long we found another campsite on the beach where we stayed all day and swam and fished in the lukewarm sea. That night we ate dinner next to a monster of a campfire that we created until the unexpected rain forced us inside, the fire valiantly burned on in spite of the downpour but after 65mm and several hours of heavy rain it succumbed. It had stopped by morning however and we awoke to clear skies once again. We continued and had now left the East Cape and were driving along the Bay of Plenty with a great view of White Island across the water, NZ’s most active volcano, as we drove plooms of steam were rising from its centre before being dragged off by the wind to create wispy clouds. After a night in a great campsite in the seaside town of Opotiki we drove to a fantastic Department of Conservation owned beach near a pretty little town called Matata. On the way we passed through Whakatane, which isn’t at all pronounced how it should be, probably the nicest town we’ve been to yet. Instead of the uniform American style street system there was a wiggly high street, the first we’ve seen since England and a welcome change. The shops were bright and well-kept and the streets were buzzing with locals and tourists alike. Back at Matata beach we had paid to camp their the night and wandered into the town where we got a hot steak pie for lunch and bought some fish bait, half a kilo of smelly oily pilchards that should do it. It didn’t, and I didn’t get anything, except sunburnt. We loved this beach, it was long and sandy with plenty of shells to find and a nice calm sea to swim in. We decided to stay another night and spent the whole next day reading, writing and drawing on the beach, with the odd trip to get fish and chips in between. After another peaceful nights kip we made a tough decision to leave the beach and head back inland to Rotorua, and that is how we got here.

The first thing that strikes you as you near Rotorua is the smell, it reeks! A cross between rotten eggs and vinegar. A sulphuric stench that stings your nose and you can taste on your tongue. We knew that we wanted to enjoy a mud bath and some of the thermal spas while we were here so we booked at trip to Hell’s Gate at the towns visitor centre, it was an open ticket so we decided to do it the next day and go for a nice walk somewhere outside the city as the weather was fine. We drove a little way south of the city to a Redwood plantation and spent a few hours strolling around the hilly forest, marvelling at the enormous foreign trees. Later in the day we visited the Blue and Green Lakes, although to our eyes they seemed to be the same colour. As the sun began to get low in the sky we found a nice campsite outside the city but still on the lake, and most importantly away from the awful aroma. We played table hockey and watched sky tv (a first for some time) while we ate our meal and drank some wine, a few episodes of Top Gear later we retreated to our cosy little van where we, as usual, popped open the laptop and watched a film, before falling asleep safe in the knowledge that tomorrow we would be immersing ourselves in a gloopy pool of hot mud.

We’ll let you know how it goes.

x x x