Different Worlds

Elvis and I leisurely eat breakfast in the morning. Elvis opts for oats, I go for our common staple of a peanut butter based meal- a P.B. sandwich with dates and dried apricots. We take a short stroll around the lake, go for a swim, and pack up. Off to Cape Reinga today. A few locals stop by the lake with their dog and in chatting with them they inform us there is a coastal road. We decide to try it. We see the fuel station they mentioned and hang a right.

“Well that was a bloody waste of fuel,” Elvis says, an hour and a half later as we pull into the same fuel station.

“Yeah, a bit of an unfortunate detour. We should still make it there by four.”

Touring the Northland of New Zealand is a wonderful experience. A mix of hills and fields, forests filled with disparate vegetations, it is a landscape I am surprised to think I have heard about it only that it is the least beautiful part of New Zealand. There are ferns, but also out in the fields trees that look closer to belonging on the Serengeti- long, thin trees with vegetations only at the top. Sheep and cows dot the landscape when it opens up into fields from the forested hills.  What must the rest be like?

Driving through the hilly parts of the northland is fun. The only straight lines are at the inflection points of the curves. Turning this way and that for twenty minutes straight uphill, and another twenty downhill afterward.

Three hours driving and we are nearly there. Signs mention a general store coming up and a break is welcome. A second sign later mentions world famous ice cream. A marketing ploy to be sure. Pulling in, I shit you not, there are no fewer than twelve people sitting outside eating ice cream at this place. ‘Well fuck me,’ I think to myself. We grab a few things we need but decide not to try the ice cream.

Cape Reinga has a spectacular view, with dense forests on the surrounding mountains, a lighthouse down on the edge of the land, three islands cutting a silhouette on the horizon in the Pacific. A good view, but little else to do here. A few signs mention hikes from here, but it is late and we aren’t up for it after five hours of driving today and we still need to get to our campsite.

The campsite is only a few minutes away, down a gravel road. We park, and admire the sound of the beach along with the grass and surrounding forested hills. A bit more substantial dinner tonight, a bit of planning for tomorrow, and we’re off to bed.

 

First stop is the sand dunes in the morning. Giant sand dunes to be specific. They are incongruous with the rest of the landscape. Two disparate worlds, one of dense and lush forest, one of immense and barren sand, clashing at the boundary of a river feels ephemeral. It is a scene one might picture out of a storybook world. One where real-world geography is discarded in favor of fantastic elements.

We decide to go barefoot among the dunes. The sand is soft in places, firm in others. Warm against my feet and between my toes, I cannot remember the last time I actually enjoyed the feeling of sand on my feet. I am taken by the unreal setting. Elvis and I hike the steep dunes to run down their sheer faces once more.

A few hours later we arrive at a buried Kauri forest, neither of us having any idea what that means, but it had a big sign so we decided to stop. Kauri trees are some of the largest trees on earth, though the forests have mostly been cleared. The buried forests refer to old forests which fell to a natural disaster and were dug up in the late 1800’s for the gum from the fallen trees. None of the behemoth trees still stand in the forest, but massive logs and stumps have been uncovered since. Not breathtaking scenery, but interesting history.

A campsite another hour south is our home for the night. Surrounded by forest and next to a river it provides a quiet seclusion. Leftovers plus a peanut butter based desert complete our diets for the day. Elvis and I talk a bit about different things, books, life, peanut butter. I’m not joking, peanut butter has been a daily discussion topic. There is a peanut butter factory he wants to visit. Pic’s peanut butter, a staple of his diet since he moved to Australia a few years ago. I agree we must visit it when we get around to that part of New Zealand.