Bay of Islands to Mangawhai Heads Via Cape Reinga (16th - 17th March)

After a great day yesterday on the Bay of Islands we spent the night in a car park for campers in Paihia. Due to heavy overnight rain we awoke with the the surrounding area sweating with dew, across the road the trees glistened in the morning sunshine as we tucked into our morning cereal. After breakfast Rachel headed off to use the internet while I cleaned the camper up. Following a quick spring clean I wandered down the street to buy a much needed map before meeting up with Rachel in the internet café. After the chores had been completed we set off with our destination being Cape Reinga, the most northern tip of New Zealand and a place of spiritual significance to the Maori people. As we drove around the coast passing through numerous towns and villages Rachel sang guide songs (I know irritating or what) while I did my best to get us lost, even with the new map. Without too much delay we motored through the coast to a small place called Mangonui, world famous for its fish and chips and a must stop on our travels. Passing through the small town we drove right up to the water's edge around a number of sharp corners and obviously with Rachel in the driver's seat we very nearly barrel rolled into the water itself. We pulled in just shy of the chippy and were greeted with a stunning view overlooking Mangonui Harbour and the wildlife that used it as their home. The fishing boats were cleaning up after their morning catch so we headed in to sample what they had caught. The catch of the day was Bluenose (not Bottlenose Dolphins as Rachel thought) but a popular fish in these waters that swells perfectly when cooked, not that I'm a fish connoisseur. While waiting for our order in the resturant, which overlooked the magnificant harbour, we stocked up on salt for the camper and eventually got stuck in to lunch. The fish was delicious and the chips the same, mainly due to the way they cook it as its all thrown into the fryer together, a perfect concoction.

After filling our boots we got back on the road and after a short drive arrived at the bottom of 90 mile Beach, the sign read 90 miles of paradise and we just had to drive the lot, although not down the beach of course. About half way up the North West spear we stopped at Houhora Harbor to take some more pictures of the fantastic waters. Here the water was a mixture of colours and shades. In the middle a sand spit rose above the water leaving a yellow swirl of water for its surround, it reminded me of an oil painting of a reflection of the sky in the sea with dark patches for clouds and the sand as the sun. As we continued our journey I eventually joined Rachel in her song singing, she is a persistent one when it come down to it but for any of you who don't know the words to the world's most irritating song its goes like this "O you'll never get to heaven… O you'll never get to heaven… on bottle of gin… on bottle of gin…cause a bottle of gin… cause a bottle of gin…got spirits in… got spirits in… I aint gonna grieve my lord no more or or…" and it goes on and on and on, and just does not stop. Anyway eventually arrive at the bottom of the Te Paki Recreation Reserve where the tarmac road came to an end and the dirt and gravel track started. As we curled up and around the lush green forest we were treated to some spectacular views, thankfully this time the Schumacher in Rachel slowed down to his more current retirement level so I did not have to hold on for dear life! Before reaching the top of the hill we pulled off towards the Taputupotu Informal Campsite known as Doc (Department of Conservation) which are basically cheap campsites that are just areas with very basic facilities for people to park up at to stay the night for a small charge. Dropping down to sea level again through twisy roads we rolled in to the site to decide whether to make this our stop for the afternoon and night. The decision was easy as the beach was picturess and quiet with barely a sole in sight. Rachel got on with some washing I took the plunge in the sea, colder than we had been used to on the Australian east coast but I still bounced about in the waves.

Refreshed I headed back up the beach and helped Rachel finish off the washing, like a true gent. I grabbed my towel and took my first shower in four days, all be it, it was ice cold and outside with no cover, so my nipples could cut glass for the first time in my life and Rachel's could cut steal. After the shower we got chatting to the neighbours who were an older couple in their own caravan on a fishing break. Intrigued about the whole fishing scene I headed around the bay with them to watch how it is done, as I was there I watched them pull in a number of fresh snapper, some too small to keep and others enough for a family of four. As we exchanged stories I realised that maybe a swim in the sea was a bit silly after hearing the story of a 7 foot shark being caught by the chap only a month or two before and finding out that the bay is a favorite shark spot, (no wonder I had the beach and sea to myself hmmm.) As the sun started to fall I headed back to find Rachel looking dejected at her attempt to cook dinner, not because she had over cooked anything, burnt anything or just ruined anything but because the gas had run out. Perfect timing of course when we were 90 dam miles away from civilisation! Thankfully help was on hand and we managed to borrow another campers stove to finish the evening chili on. As the fishers arrived back we were even happier to see a perfectly filleted fish prepared for us to take away with us on our travels courtesy of the couple, and we could not wait to get stuck in to it. As the night came to a close we cuddled up and dozed off reading like a true old married couple.

The next day we woke early to head off to the top of Cape Reinga. A little further up the dirt track we arrived at New Zealand's most northern tip where we spent the morning walking out to the spiritual point where a Ocean and a sea collide. As we looked over the edge whirl pools could be seen where the two currents from the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean meet and on the tip was a small but pretty lighthouse to warn ships of the land. Breathing in the morning air we ran around the hills to work up an appetite for breakfast. As we had a bite to eat in the camper the sun got to work on heating up the cold brisk air and then we headed back down towards 90 mile Beach stopping off at the Te Paki Sand Dunes, famous for their size and for the sand boarding that can be done on them. On arrival there were no sand boards in sight so we took off our shoes and walked up and over the dunes, as we reached the first summit at the blink of an eye we thought we were in the Sahara desert, not a sole in sight and sand as far as the eye could see. I thought it would be a good idea to run down the other side but when my face smashed in to the bottom of it and half the dune entered my nose I soon realised why Rachel had paced herself down. Once around them we dropped down the other side into a fresh water stream where we watched people from a tour bus sand board down the dune, quick was not the word. After an entertaining watch we followed the stream back around to our camper where we noticed the sand board hire setting up, although we passed on the opportunity as we had burnt off all our energy to get up them the first time round.

We jumped back in the vehicle and headed back out, passing the pig head on the entrance to Te Paki and back down the dirt track to entrance. The rest of the day was spent getting down to the Mangawhai Heads with a stopover in Kaitaia where we fuelled up and stocked up with some essential food items, (cake and biscuits.) Oh yeah and a fishing rod! What you say, a fishing rod. Well we figured that if we could teach ourselves to surf cast then we could save some money on food. Well, learning to fish though we would soon find is harder than once thought. I spent some time with the shop keeper who showed me how to gut and fillet a fish before making our way out with a handy 40 quid surf casting rod. A surf casting rod is basically a larger rod that is used off the beach or off rocks around the sea, ideal for catching things without a boat and a very popular way of fishing here in New Zealand. As we jumped back in the vehicle I grabbed an inner tube of a carpet from a flooring store to keep our new prize possession in before starting the 4 hour drive to the Heads. Upon arrival, tired after a long day, we pulled into the nature reserve car park where we cooked up the fresh fish, obviously we seasoned it with garlic, salt and lemon for that perfect flavor, (the fish was snapper by the way.) Once full we headed to the side of the road where we pulled up for the night to refresh our batteries for the day ahead.