The others were up first and I overheard a discussion querying whether one of them snored. I quickly explained that it was me not them causing problems.
Andy was up and away early after eating half a bag if museli and finishing off a litre of milk so he didn't have to carry it. Nathalie left shortly after and happily I wasn't too far behind. I had planned to have a rest day today but the despite having good facilities and an excellent shower the house is cold and not very homey; probably something to do with the place being in the middle of changing hands.
So after two cups of tea, carrot muffin breakfast and a quick cuddle with a random grey cat that appears to have got itself locked in the enclosed outdoor seating area over night (I let it out) I set off. I went down to the beach to complete the coastal walk. Turns out it is one if the last nesting places if the critically endangered Fairy Tern (c. 50 breeding pairs left).
At the end if the walk the trail goes back past the shops where we got dinner and then follows the highway south. I had just passed the 4-Square when I heard a faintly Belgian accent yell "Jenny!" and turned to we Nathslie hurrying over after resupplying. We walked and chatted for a few hundred metres before her quicker pace took her on ahead.
Fortunately the highway has a broad shoulder and even a footpath in places so as road walks go it was quite pleasant. One section of it is lined with Norfolk Pines forming a punctuated but still nice sort of avenue.
A few Ks on is the town of Mangawai, a sort of less affluent little sister (though I suspect older settlement) than Mangawai Heads. I used the public facilities then popped into a cafe to get a hot chocolate...and also a gingerbread man I spied on the way to the till (ginger is good for settling the stomach right? And dippig it in chocolate can be no bad thing...).
I sat outside to eat and a woman stopped to chat, spying my backpack and guessin I was doing the TA. Apparently she and her partner have a house right on the trail and take in hikers from time to time. Our conversation was friendly but brief as I wasn't yet quite awake and not really up to proper conversation. I drank up and got going again.
The trail continues south, crosses and estuary and then heads out through rural housing and a forestry block to Te Arai beach. I got there to find Nathalie striding alon the beach about 500m ahead. I hadn't the energy to catch her up, and besides, it was lunch time. I sat in a little bowl on the dunes with a good view up the beach to chow down on cheese, cucumber and tomato tortilla wraps, and one very juicy orange I'd taken off Steve's tree in Waipu. I also called and had a good chat to Mum.
I'd encountered a middle aged guy in the carpark who pulled up, extracted a booie board from his car and walked to the beach with me, then set off down the beach in search is the perfect spot. Setting off after lunch I walked a few hundred metres down the beach and saw him making a vague attempt at boogie boarding in the very small waves comin ashore from the calm sea. As I approached he emerged from the waves, board held by his side, asking if I'd had a good lunch. He clearly wasn't wearing board shorts and I cautiously wondered if he looked like the speedo type. We exchanged the usual chit-chat niceties and as I drew level he chose that exact moment to swing the board round onto his hip giving me a full frontal of his non-speedo wearing self. Without breaking stride I wished him good day and carried on up the beach, resisting the urge to shake my head.
Within a few kilometres the trail goes up and over the grassy headland of Te Arai Point. A few guys were surfing and in Te carpark a bronze-good convertible full I bikini clad girls were watching. One had a large camera and was taking photos I the beach and the surfers. (I found out later both Andy and Nathalie had seen them and apparently they were doing some kind of a photo shoot; naturally Andy had taken the opportunity to have an extended snack break).
From the up of the headland I saw Nathalie at two or three Ks ahead along Pakiri beach and a very distant moving dot that might have been Andy. Nearer to hand there was a couple sunbathing on the beach. I made my way down and back into the sand. The trail notes say there's three stream crossings up to waist deep between here and Pakiri so I was preparing to get wet.
The first and second crossing were nothing to write home about, barely wetting above my toes. I pushed on to the third crossing, the Pakiri River, without a break, keen to just get there, or more specifically to the campground on the other side.
I'd started out on the beach chirpy and singing "Summertime", once with Te actual words and a couple of times as I made up words of my own. I finally settled on:
'Pakiri Beach and the walking is easy;
The sand is firm, though the tide is high.
The waves are rolling and there is a light breeze,
And way up above me is wi-ide blue sky.'
By the end of the walk this had changed to:
'Pakiri Beach and the walking is brutal;
The sand is soft as the tide is high.
The waves are rolling and there is a cold breeze,
But way up above me is wi-ide blue sky.'
The only upside was I saw a little blue penguin paddling just beyond the waves about halfway down the beach.
I got to the river to find the campground in view and several people walking or fishing on the far side. There were none on mine, suggesting this water crossing wasn't minor. As I de-booted and rolled up my trousers I got a txt from Andy, confirming the water was waist deep, even at the wave-interface, but there the deep part of the channel was narrowest. In I plunged and within a minute was on the opposite bank. Some fisherman who had watched my progress returned to their lines, no doubt not as entertained as they would have been if I'd tripped and
plunged under.
Leaving my boots off I bare-footed it up the beach then slipped on my sandals to walk the last few hundreds metres down the road to Pakiri campground.
Andy came to meet me, wanting to know if I was keen to go halves on a cabin. He and Nathalie had been going to but she apparently balked at the price ($40pp) and pitched her tent instead. I asked to look at the cabins first. The South African lady behind the desk was friendly, but not the cheerful, hospitable and especially hiker-friendly type I had started to get used to on this trip. Andy warned me he'd already asked if hey had a hiker discount to no avail (apparently a campground down the trail has a basic cabin set aside for hikers and it's free!).
We took a look. It wasn't anything special but at least one of the two sets of bunk beds (the bottom double bed) had a comfy mattress. And there were pillows. Hmmm. Andy said I could have the comfy double bed. Ok, sold. (I later felt bad watching Andy stretch out on the substandard other lower bunk, but he had said I could have the comfy bed, and I selfishly reasoned that of the two I us I was the one most in need of a good night's sleep!).
I pitched my tent next to Nathalie's to let the late afternoon sun dry it out (it was still wet from the dew at Ocean Beah). Andy and Nathalie both confirmed that it was hiker camping luxury.
After showers etc we each made dinner and sat outside to eat. The campground didn't seem that busy but there were a few people around, including a German couple in a caravan. The campground facilities are functional but uninspiring and the whole place gives off an air of being business rather than customer service oriented. Guess I won't be taking a rest day here either.
Dishes, strike tent and then I was off to bed, hoping that my rather mundane pasta snack wouldn't cause my stomach any trouble in the night. Andy seems to go to sleep quite quickly. I lay awake for a little as I always do. I heard a solitary morepork, very far away, and found myself missing the nighttime symphony I'd heard way back on the Ratea Track...but happy to have a warm room, a pillow, and some company.
One last piece of exciting news: today I left Northland and entered the Auckland region and now have started the next section in my map book. Progress!
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