Since I was 18 years old, I had gone camping with my friend Shyla every year on New Years, up until I went to Europe. It felt so good to finally get back into the tradition and once again be setting off into rural New Zealand, a boot full of camping equipment, and the backseats of the car full of boxes of food and a healthy amount of wine.
Camping at Tawharanui up north from us had always been our place of choice, however to have a spot here at New Years one needed to book in June, so we had no chance this year. Instead we went to our secondary spot,Waikawau Bay, in the Coromandel.
The great thing about this campsite - aside from being on long gravel roads (which many might see as a negative, but meant that it wasn't full of people) is that it borders on both a beach and the New Zealand bush. Being so close to the forest meant it was easy to escape to the shade and the river to cool off, as well as go on bush walks up to the summit (the view was lackluster however) and to check out the swimming hole!
The beach was also lovely, though of the very large slightly wild variety. However just over the hill (a few minutes drive away) was a much calmer, more secluded bay with clear waters and lots of sunshine and shade.
We had great times at this campsite, cooking up all types of things and exploring the surrounding area. However due to a series of unfortunate events we ended up moving the tent about four times which started off as irritating, sank to utterly frustrating, and finally ended on rather hilarious in its ridiculousness.
First it turned out we had ended up in a wind-tunnel, so we moved the tent to a more sheltered spot. Here was our favourite spot in the corner, well served by shade and sunshine, and we would have happily stayed here if not for a marauding crew of people. Two rather unpleasant families moved in next door to us, and spent the entirety of the afternoon screaming abuse at their children and playing hardcore rap. We moved the next morning.
This however, was not the end of the tale!
Aside from the fact that we were vindicated late the next day when the family got kicked out for secretly having a dog with them (a strict rule in a national park with endangered birds) we also had a night of terror with the mysterious cackling noise...
To explain further, we went to sleep quite happy as usual that night, only to be woken up at about 2AM by a large something rustling by our tent. And then... 'HAHHAHHA' the thing cackled, hoarse and throaty, like an old man with a cough.
This is it! I thought, pulling my sleeping bag tight around me; there's an old ax-wielding maniac outside the tent, and any second now he'll come hacking his way in. Shyla meanwhile, happily slumbered on, earplugs keeping her sound asleep.
Hope was not all lost however, as the thing cackled from further afield, and eventually wandered away. In the morning we discovered the monster had been a possum, but still decided to flee to a new location, just in case.
=
Although the forest stream was too cold to swim in, we soon appropriated it for a new purpose. On hot days when we needed to seek solace in the shade, we chilled our wine in the water!
New years was a night of fireworks and listening to people countdown in the sand dunes as we lay on the beach and looked up at one of the clearest night skies I had ever seen, under the gaze of countless stars. Coromandel is one of the most beautiful places in NZ, and well worth going off the beaten track for. After all - to paraphrase Robert Frost - take the road less travelled by, as that makes all the difference.
No comments:
Post a Comment