There were no surprises when I woke up on Friday morning. It was still raining. But I got myself together and braced myself for the 100km drive over Takaka Hill towards Golden Bay. I didn’t really have a plan for what I’d do along the way, which walks or trails, but would simply let the weather decide.
Takaka Hill is not just one hill, but a range of marble hills that are 791 metres at their highest point and have only one road that runs up and over the top. It’s a slow road because of all the many twists and turns, some of which are almost 320 degree hairpins. And because it is extremely steep. I did jump out at a lookout when I got to the top but it was so very wet that all I could see was an awful lot of cloud. But it was almost as if the extreme meandering of State Highway 60 had isolated Golden Bay from the rest of the South Island so when I did finally start winding my way down again, I felt like I’d arrived in Brigadoon.
Of course I headed straight for the beach and found myself at Wharariki. A footpath took me on a beautiful windswept walk that ran along hillsides and through fields. It really was as windy as could be and when I did finally reach the dunes, the sand whipped up around my feet. The beach was enormous and looked like a different day depending on which way you looked. I spotted just one other couple walking at the far end. And I also spotted a seal. On the big rock, on the ledge on the left.
I hung around for long enough for the couple to catch up with me and found out that they were also from the UK and had been caught up in the Covid lockdown too. But they’d spent a lot of time in New Zealand over the years and were full of inside tips. They pointed me in the direction of Cape Farewell, the northern most point of the South Island. They told me not to worry about the gates, but just to make sure I closed them behind me. And to watch out for sheep. They said I’d think I was on private land, but it would be fine. So off I went.
Cape Farewell was breathtaking. I think one of the most dramatic coastlines I’ve ever seen. It was so windy I felt I should crouch on the grass to avoid being blown off the cliff edge. I walked as high as I could to get the best view that I could. And grinned my way back down again.
After the long and winding drive back to Motueka, and a pit stop in the lovely little town of Takaka, I found that the rain had eventually eased. But was secretly delighted when I was told they still had seen nothing like the sunny skies I’d found in Brigadoon.
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