Firstly, though, we took advantage of our location and had breakfast on Long Beach, just a short walk from our campsite. Fortunately, despite an overnight downpour, the sun rose into a relatively clear sky and shone warmly on us as we ate a simple breakfast of boiled egg, and peanut butter sandwiches. Ironically the stretch of sand at Long Beach is relatively short.
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| Sunrise on Russell's Long Beach |
Pausing briefly to visit the original site of the capital (Otiako or "Old Russell"), of which only a well remains surrounded by houses, we boarded the ferry again by 9pm to deliver us back to Opua. From there, we broke the back of the journey along the east coast of Northland through Whangarei (the 'wh' is pronounced as a light 'f') and Warkworth (pronounced as you would imagine), stopping at the former for a coffee at the i-Site visitor centre. The latter is now home to the new 8 Wired brewery, its founder having made the move from Blenheim on the South island. Sadly, the brewery is too new to have a tap room or shop (and licences are tricky to come by in an ongoing atmosphere of temperance), so we scoured the shops for NZ craft beer, picking up a selection from Tuatara, Moa, and Epic.
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| Behold! Beer with flavour |
The drive took us through beautiful farmland and along the east coast of Northland. I tired of the drive as we came through Auckland, as the number of cars visible on the road rose from single to triple digits. Mercifully, we turned off onto SH25 and, for all appearances, out into the boondocks.
It was here that we reached our destination, Kaiaua, and flung ourselves on the generosity of the local boat club, which owns a space overlooking the Firth of Thames and out to the Coromandel Peninsula. They very magnanimously allow campers to park up there for the night. Facilities are basic (a public toilet block), but the price is unarguably reasonable (free).
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| 'Free' as in 'free beer' (the beer was not free) |
The weather, which had swung dramatically between sunshine and showers for the entire lengthy of the journey, obliged once again with some late afternoon rays. We popped the back of the van and relaxed in the warmth with a cup of tea - and later a magnificently resinous Tuatara Nui American pale ale - as the shadows lengthened into the sea.
Fortuitously, nearby lay a "famous" chip shop and, eager to try the NZ import of the British seaside favourite, we procured some to take away and ate in the van. Sadly, the chips, while nice, failed to live up to our expectations of 'chip shop' chips, tasting more like the oven-cooked crinkle-cut variety. This had us hankering for the 'real McCoy', which neither of us has eaten for years.
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