Good sleep, dog anxiety gradually receding.
Left Ahipara ten-ish, heading south to the Hokianga.
Can I just say here, that if our mangled corpses are found in the burnt out wreck of Simon’s Volvo, that I’m putting the blame squarely on his shoulders. It’s not that he’s a bad driver – he’s far more skilled than I am. It’s not going to be because he drives like a bat out of hell, having to overtake every other more cautious car, or that he always takes the cleverest line on any road, which seems to send us far too often across the centre line for my liking (even though all those things are true). No, it’s going to be because he cannot help himself incessantly fiddling with the car’s computer – either for navigation purposes or to try and fix the dreadful music.
After an hour driving through the back blocks, we reached the little town of Kohu Kohu, the northern connection for the Rawene ferry. This town used to be a big deal to do with logging, and is still filled with impressive and well preserved Victorian houses. It even has NZ’s oldest arched stone bridge. The war memorial is big and imposing with over a hundred men lost in each war (and even one poor soul in Afghanistan). There isn’t much going on there now, though, apart from one surprisingly upmarket craft shop and the cafe where we had our lunch.
We got to the ferry with 25 minutes to spare which was lucky as there was a queue after us, and quite a few cars didn’t make it on for that sailing.
We drove through Rawene and on to Omapere.
Another lovely beach side resort for us, with views across the harbour to the famous giant sand dunes.
While Simon refreshed himself with beers at the bar, I went for a swim. The water is lovely and clear and the beach is sheltered. I enjoyed my swim even though I spent the entire time imagining that I was about to be bitten by a giant shark. Many people of my vintage have the same inordinate fear of sharks, due to watching the film “Jaws” at an impressionable age. I used to get it in Lake Taupo, and even (embarrassingly) during nighttime swims in swimming pools. Such is the power of the (weak) mind. I was adamant I wouldn’t let my children watch the movie, but I recently discovered they’d all seen it and thought it was ho hum, with quite risible special effects. Anyway, I’ve learnt to ignore my fears and keep swimming, and I haven’t died yet. And a nice afternoon swim is a very nice prelude to predinner sparkling rose on the terrace.