It is a big day for Rosie and the Operator, we are about to embark on another offroad adventure. We are heading from Coromandel Town to Colville, the last stop on the tarseal road before it transforms to dirt as it heads to the tip of the Coromandel Peninsula, we intend to take the camper on this road and see how far we get.
Leaving Coromandel Town the bays are still well populated as we journey north up the coastal road, holiday Bach’s mingle with permanent residents and, as it is a beautiful day there are plenty of boat trailers sitting forlorn at the high tide line while the owners are out for a days fishing. Boat houses and wee tumble down jetties cling to the shoreline adding to a sense of forgottoness.
The morning sun hasnt burnt through the cloud yet and it is is still and quiet, Rosie is used to having a surf beach at her doorstep and it is eerily quiet for the amount of water around us, it does not make a sound. The roads are quiet and that is always a bonus for The Operator as it means we can just truck on. Colville is only about 20mins drive from Coromandel Town, it is the last stop for petrol and provisions before the road ends and becomes a gravel track.
Even though it was only 8.30 am Ute’s were pulling up and calling into the store, every Ute either had a dog tied to the back or one sitting in a dog box on the tray. People were coming and going and it was quite busy for a one horse village. The general store sold everything you could imagine, pick something randomly out of your head and they would have it in the dusty, dark depths of the store.
Next stop for the locals was for them to check there mail box….56 boxes still equals 56 families out here. The Colville tennis courts were across the road from the General Store, the fundraising barometer for a new playing surface had stalled me thinks in about 1986…weeds were pushing up through the tarmac court and the net hung limply with holes in it. The obligatory hall, an essential part of any rural community graced one side of the Store and, upon peeping through the window it was beautifully decorated with fancy place settings all set for an elegant function. Rosie and The Operator however had stopped in Colville for breakfast, in a building just off the store was the unimposing from the roadside, Green Snapper Cafe.
The interior is like an old wooden schoolhouse with a huge fireplace and menu written on a blackboard above it, retro lampshades and magazines from a bygone era give a cosy feeling reminisant of Granny’s place. A posy of sunflowers was
sitting on our table and light reflected charmingly through the scallop shell curtain. The blackboard held a range of breakfast and brunch dishes, all ingredients organic and locally sourced. The food was presented great and tasted fresh while being cooked to perfection. The twist for our bacon and eggs was a beautiful homemade chutney accompaniment and a freshly baked ciabatta roll instead of toast…The Operator quickly cut his in half and turned his breakfast into a bacon and egg bap. The stand out was the Lala Coffee…Rosie needs to look into this roaster in more depth as the coffee was the best she has ever tasted!
We pushed on, another day living in paradise with too much beauty to behold around every corner.
A few kilometres out of Colville the tarmac ended, the road narrowed and the dirt road began. It was hard
packed and gravelly, a testament to how little rain they probably get up this way, the windows went up to stop the dust getting inside the cab and I am glad it wasnt a sweltering day cause with no air con we would have roasted. It is a tooth rattling drive at an average of 30 km an hour, coming to complete standstills sometimes precariously perched on the side of the road so a car can pass coming the other way. Plants and bushes on the roadside are a uniform beige colour from the road dust of passing time and travellers. The sea is a large, vast expanse so still with barely a ripple on the surface reflecting the grey sky.
Giant, ancient pohutukawas grow on the seaward side of the track forming tunnels over the road. The bulk of the tree bending its tortured foliage toward the sea and gently brushing the surface, the trunks huge girths
formed wide, easily climbable ladders just begging for exploration along the length and breadth of the sleeping giants. The coves, beaches and bays are rocky out here with the occasional area of mangrove, take a look over the edge of the road and the water is crystal clear down into the azure rock pools. Abandoned summer swings sway in the breeze from the branches of the pohutakawas.
The houses now are few and far between, then round the corner we come across this wee house overlooking a beautiful lonely bay with the most well kept and lovely gardens that cascade down to the roadside. The houses that we see from now on all have tractors in the back yard to tow boats down to the beaches. Every Ute or car we pass parked up on the side of the road has people fishing from it and all have a chilly bin out nearby. We turned around at Fantail Bay, a DOC camp which has a long drop toilet and cold showers, there was about ten tents and campers set up there, a real little community set in a dank looking hollow surrounded by bush…not really Rosies cup of tea…it kind of set the hairs on the back of my neck on edge…we slowly rode in and every head turned to stare at us…abit kind of ‘ends of the earth’ horror movie…so, we turned around and bounced back the way we came, the road back was just as good as coming up…you see everything from another perspective going in reverse.
Rosie and The Operator stopped at this seaside culvert parking area to stretch our legs. Rosie noticed some lovely grasses that do not grow in our area that would dry out perfectly to go into the totara bottles that I bought in Thames. The Operator rolled his eyes as he picked me half a dozen fine specimens while Rosie took photos around the area….he tied them with string and knowing Rosies aversion to creepy crawlies sprayed the bunch with flyspray before he hung the grass in the camper…genius Operator!
What a pleasure it was to hit the tarmac again! The silence, no vibrations…it was bliss! Our journey to Fantail Bay was about a 60km round trip and took us two and a half hours counting a few stops along the way. The road back to Coromandel Town was littered with roadside honesty boxes selling the overflow from home gardens.
We were heading next for Hahei (where we were going to spend the next couple of nights) via Whitianga. We needed to backtrack into Coromandel Town first to get back on the main road.
Coromandel Town is very small, it has a population of about 1600 people, it is a quaint and well preserved town created back in the day from gold fever when it was first discovered in the 1850s. The commercial hub of the town is well preserved and very tidy…a bit too bright and clean and sparkly…if that is possible? There are plenty of nice cafes and galleries to browse and the town is a delightful stop over. The tourist information centre or i-site, is very efficient and helpful and you can pre book your trip on the Driving Creek Railway while you are in town to avoid disappointment.
Out of town we went, heading this time for the east coast of the peninsula, it is a winding steep road out of town but at the top we were rewarded by the fabulous view of the native bush and a 180 degree coastline vista with small bays dotted here and there in the hazy distance. The photo does not do it justice, it was a big sky, big view shot! As soon as we dropped down onto the east coast the difference in beach terrain was amazing, every beach had miles of beautiful white sand, gentle rollers to
thundering surf (depending on how sheltered each bay was) and the commercialism and tourist activity went up 500%.
Whitianga is one of the jewels in the Coromandels tourist crown, driving in and seeing the expanse of bay in a perfect white crescent…was so different to the rustic charm of the West Coast. It was flashy and showy and everything was positioned in a prime, million dollar location, every house must have a sea view, or else why would you live there? Rosie and The Operator drove the main street, it was large and well catered for with nice shops, galleries and restaurants, abit too large maybe considering when the summer crowd go stuff all people live there, sorry Ballerina, I know this one of your fave places…Rosie and The Operator trucked on out….
The Operator swears he did not take a wrong turn, Rosie was distracted by a new building development going up with plush housing along a man made waterway that led to the sea and each house had its own jetty….but we ended up in the country, heading away from the water and back into the hills, then, right in front of us is The Coroglen Tavern….famous or infamous, not sure which, it is the pub in the middle of
nowhere with a huge permanent marquee out the back which hosts all the best kiwi bands over the summer….we stopped, it would have been rude not too, and by that time it was definitely beer o’clock. We told the barmaid we ended up here because we were lost, she looked bemused, I can see why cause when we looked at the map it appears to be the only road to where we were going….The Coromandel Triangle, spooky. 10kms from there was Hahei, and into the bowels of the biggest Holiday Park we have ever stayed in Rosie and the Operator went. Rosie had kind of booked the Penthouse suite, ocean front unobstructed camper parking, whilst to the rear we looked down from our hillock onto the sea of tenters and caravaners.
Rosie has never really ‘done’ beaches before…but this holiday she is embracing it and giving it a go. After parking the camper it was straight down to the beach, litterally 10 seconds walk away, Hahei beach was essentially deserted, it was windswept, had thundering surf and white sand, so white you had to wear sunnies against the glare, so soft underfoot, yet hard baked where the surf was retreating…look closer and the sand had a pink tinge to it from the many crushed pink shells which were as fine as…well, sand. The day was warm, Rosie had brought new togs (cause she hasnt owned any for the last two decades). Togs were on, clothes over top, down to the beach she bravely went followed by the Operator who was itching to get in the water. Rosie found a secluded spot in the scrubby beach grass to take off outer garments, Rosie is sitting in the sand in her togs, limbs so white you need to wear sunglasses against the glare. Rosie scans the beach left and right, The Operator confirms there is no one within viewing clarity…Rosie lumbers 50 meters to the water, its freezing, she’s committed, goes in to waist depth, a wave comes, knocks Rosie over, water over her head, sand shifting beneath her, the roar of the sea in her ears, salty water filling her mouth….Rosie thinks this is it, I am going to die! Wave retreats and Rosie is sitting on the beach with sand up her arse looking like a drowned rat… gets up and runs back to the shelter of the grass to hide her shame…I remember now why I hate the sea. Togs retired.
Wine and crackers salvage Rosies bruised ego while The Operator swears I didnt look too stupid..gotta love the guy!
The campground was well used, burnt patches of brown grass on every site attested to its popularity, the public areas were clean and really well looked after considering how big it was. The sites themselves were big enough for the average kiwi tent, giant BBQ, car and boat. The odd thing was they physically locked the gate against cars coming in and out after 1030, the park was curfewed! We wanted to go to Hot Water Beach at low tide of 11.00pm as it was a full moon and very bright…it was also the only way Rosie was getting back in those togs again…in the dark…but as we wouldnt have been able to get back in the gate…we had to abort the mission. The Operator was gutted, he was looking forward to digging a hole in the moonlight with the aid of his headtorch for me to get into…
Tomorrow Rosie and The Operator explore the biggest tourist attractions of the Coromandel, one is a breathtaker…the other we discovered to be a breathwaster….
Thank you so much for doing the job that is remarkable here, everybody will like
your post.
King regards,
Dinesen Raahauge
Thanks Dinesen your feedback is much appreciated. I am very lucky to live in such a beautiful country…especially in these times. All the best to you and keep safe.