We left our coastal campsite Thursday to drive further down the single-wide gravel road until we reached Anatori, the furthest point to which you can drive along the west coast when approaching from the north, then turned around after peering at the whitebait fishermen’s squatter huts (the little silvery wriggly fish are a huge deal, it seems). Then we donned our Thursday best for my first real spelunking experience! We navigated via head lamps over boulders and under stalactites, skipping back and forth over the stream as the wide cavern became more narrow and we straddled the stream as we spidered over the rocks above. Our caving adventure also included rope-assisted descents, thigh-deep wading, and a bit of low ceiling scooting. Forty-five minutes later, we’d made our way through the hill and found lambs and calves to greet us on the other side.

After changing into dry clothes, we had a picnic at the base of Knuckle Hill before climbing the bald mount for a view of the Whanganui Inlet during receding tide, enjoying a cool breeze ruffling through the prickly gorse.

Then it was off to home base for cleanup and laundry before a dinner out on the town at the small town school house turned diner, enjoying warm conversation and easy laughter – and a quick tutorial in rugby. 🙂

We fought the urge to collapse onto the couch at home, instead heading out to the beach to hunt penguins! Little blue penguins roost in Golden Bay year round, and I was eager to add a sighting to my list. We walked along the dark beach, using head torches to light the sand until we spotted little webbed feet tracks leading up to the rock wall, then peered between the boulders. We heard a few low growls and chirps, sighting just a couple beady eyes and penguin “best sides”. What a thrill! None chose to poke their beaks out for a hello, but I suppose I’d rather not be rousted from bed for a nighttime photo, either.

Friday dawned cloudy and dreary, which matched my disposition at the thought of leaving Golden Bay that arvo (afternoon). We packed up for a drive up Takaka Hill, a winding road over a mountain pass that is the only land access to the Bay region. We climbed ever higher around hairpin turns, finally turning off onto another of the ubiquitous one-lane gravel roads and drove to the Harwood Hole track, hiking through clear stands of reverent beech to the tune of bellbirds (Google their call; just do it). The geography changed as we reached marble boulders vaulted up from the deep eons before, fractured and rugged and covered in various lichens and moss. The boulders grew in size and sharpness until we reached Harwood’s Hole, a gaping abyss stretching 200 meters down into the hill. I crept as close to the edge as I dared and marveled at the scale of it. Then another uphill trudge to the lookout, skittering our way across sharp karst marble that threatened to flay open any unfortunate body part that was the first to land if a foot should slip. But oh, what a view!

We drove back down Takaka Hill to visit the small museum and run final errands before my flight. A smiling farewell, then my turn to play copilot in the 6-seater single prop plane for a hop across the strait, Pilot Eddie identifying points of interest as we flew by. Not sure whether strapping a life vest on before the flight was reassuring or worrying…but we didn’t need them, so I’ll leave that thought alone.

A bus and train ride (Jessica was remorse to find a TGIF woman across the aisle who enjoyed an entire bottle of wine and jovial conversation for the duration of the 2 hour journey) back to Palmy to be reunited with Darren and Katherine, then a Sabbath welcome. Hard to believe I’ll be flying off tomorrow!