Start – Whangarei
Finish – Camp Waipu Cove
Daily Distance – 27km
TA Distance – 426km
I’m a big believer in fate. Or, as I could more accurately phrase it, I’m a big believer in fate so far as it
pertains to the consumption of coffee and chocolate brownies. A bold statement and one that perhaps
requires a fuller recounting of the slightly peculiar series of events that has comprised today.
It was all supposed to be so simple. Walk 2km from the hostel to state highway 1, find a hitch back to the
trail at Ruakaka (just off highway 1), walk 17km or so, pitch tents and relax in the knowledge of a job
well done. Yes, well, the best laid plans and all. First problem and quite a large one, a total lack of even
remotely feasible hitching spots along the highway. Usually SH1 is a single lane road with a decent
shoulder, but it would seem not to be the case in Whangarei where it’s dual lane and woe to anyone who
breaks down. This failure led to plan B, a forced march 6km to the Whangarei bus station before the next
bus for 3 hours departed. The ticket was pretty overpriced, but panting and a little footsore it at least
assured onward progress, so I was willing to count it as a win. My optimism faded slightly when 30
minutes later the driver called that we’d arrived in Ruakaka. Kiwi buses it would seem, have a loose
interpretation of the word “arrived”. In this case, what it meant was more along the lines of “we’re
dropping you at a gas station in the arse end of nowhere, so you can have the joy of walking the last 4km
to town yourself”. But, anyway, that brings me nicely back to fate. Next door to the gas station was a tiny
Italian bakery with a tempting coffee aroma and the great fortune to be right in my eyeline. With blue
skies, fate and the open road on my side who was I to say no to a large coffee and even larger brownie.
The friendly and inquisitive staff gave off the impression that they don’t see many customers, let alone
trampers armed with huge rucksacks and urgent caffeine needs. The baffled incredulity on their faces
upon explaining that my destination is Bluff was almost worth the visit in itself. Almost. Fortunately, the
coffee and brownie that fate, incompetent hitching and Kiwi’s being buggers tossed into my path were
both exceptional.
Curiously, the oddities of today didn’t end there. Dusting the last icing sugar from my lips while strolling
into Ruakaka I found myself surrounded by runners. Apparently today was the annual Ruakaka fun run,
which attracted a great turnout and no little appreciation from me as for once I wasn’t the person on the
street looking the sweatiest and most out of breath. They at least seemed to see the funny side of a pair of
heavily laden hikers strolling the course alongside the competitors. From there it was a lovely stroll down
the beach to Waipu (possessor of the most satisfying name to say on the TA so far) and a shortish road
walk to Waipu Cove for the night.
The only other incident of note today was the sad story of Martina’s sock. Having been given up for dead
after dropping off her pack a week ago while drying, we ran across Danish Mike (trail name Puppydog) for the first time in a while while having lunch. He has been travelling with an American lady who had found the elusive (not to mention shockingly malodorous) garment, Mike had correctly identified the owner (a weird, but useful talent) and it had been traveling in their entourage ever since. That is, until this morning when they threw it out. Presumably in despair of reuniting it with its former owner, but it could equally well have been that they belatedly realised that sock puppets aren’t appropriate toys for mature adults. A sad, sad story.
