Why?
Rain.
Rain and rain and rain again. Those of you who also follow Robin’s blog are probably familiar with Robin and Rich’s first attempt to visit the Coromandel. It’s a gorgeous region on the east coast of the North Island. You climb up twisty roads and travel through near tropical vegetation. Robin and Rich were rained out on their first attempt to visit the Coromandel. We were hopeful that the weather would be more cooperative when I visited and went to sleep on Sunday night dreaming of sun on the gorgeous shore of Cathedral Cove.
We awoke, of course, to rain.
We decided to venture forth regardless. It wasn’t raining that hard, and the weather in New Zealand can change in an instant. Though it might be raining in Tauranga, it could be completely clear in the Coromandel.
Of course this was the one time the weather was consistent. But we were determined. Curse or no, we still had a good time. We lucked out and only had drizzling rain when we climbed down the coast toward Cathedral Cove itself. The mud was extra sticky and made a gloppy “smuck” every time we took a step. By the time we reached the beach, we were graced with a break from the rain and were able to prance about. I even removed my shoes and socks and waded into the ocean. (It was one of those “I’m here, so I must” moments. It was chilly, but still awesome.)
The beach itself was gorgeous. It actually plays a role in the Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. According to my internet resources, the cove is where the Pevensie children first emerged when they return to Narnia in the second story/film. I compared photos, and sure enough, it’s the same! I wish my angle was slightly different so I had an exact replica to compare with the shot in the film, but I think even here, in the dim of the overcast sky, you can still see the similarities.
After we had our fill of running around Cathedral Cove, we took a short jaunt down the road to Hot Water Beach. The beach is fed by an underground river of hot water. Just before and after low tide, you can dig down into the sand and find your own natural hot tub. Just as we arrived at Hot Water Beach, the rain kicked into high gear. We didn’t really dig in and create a pool, but the feel of the hot water as we buried our feat against the cold sting of the rain created a neat duality.
Rich headed for home after our stint at Hot Water Beach. Robin and I ventured further out toward Whitianga, a small town on the coast. We were planning to spend the night in Coromandel and then continue to cover as much of New Zealand as possible (in two more days). However, the rain was relentless. We briefly considered staying at a backpackers hostel called “The Cat’s Pyjamas,” but on closer inspection (a drive-by), we felt it was just a bit to skeezy-looking to actually allow us to sleep. (It was probably cool back in the 60’s, but hadn’t really been updated lately. It looked like the type of place that might have some rodent or insect infestation problems. Or where a delinquent may just wander into your room in the middle of the night. It gives me the heebie-jeebies all over again just thinking about it. But I do like the name of the place. I think we ought to bring “the cat’s pajamas” back into vogue as a phrase. But in a good way--it should not in any way reflect this hostel.)
Robin and I drove around Whitianga a little bit more and stopped in another backpacker’s lodge. Though the owner of this second place seemed doubtful that the roads would get washed out, we were starting to wonder if this rain would impede our travel plans. Not wanting to get stuck in the Coromandel (my return flight was only two days away at this point), we decided to turn tail and head back to Tauranga, crash at Robin and Rich’s (and give Rich a bit of company), and make alternate plans for the next day and a half.
And lo and behold! The next day we woke, safe and sound in Tauranga to news reports that--shocker!--the Coromandel roads were washed out!
But better than the slightly smug feeling that we had upon hearing that news was the whole experience of traveling with a good friend. As Robin noted to me while we drove back to Tauranga, I had come an awfully long way for “girl talk” in the car. Yet, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Sometimes it’s the experience of doing “nothing special” with a good friend that makes for the warmest memories.
