Quiet start on Coromandel Peninsula (because a cyclone ran all the tourists off)

My relief at having arrived at Auckland airport with my bike intact and luggage complete was immediately eclipsed by the kindness and friendliness of the locals. I and my bike were shuttled to the lovely studio I had booked in St Heliers, a quiet suburb. The evening was full of, for me exotic, birdsounds, the zoom of all kinds of crickets and the perfume of summer flowers. After sleeping off a bit of jetlag, I unpacked my bike and got some bare camping necessities. I was ready to head off into New Zealand!

Ferry Auckland - Coromandel

I cycle along the coastline (cycle lanes all the way) to Auckland centre where I have booked the ferry to Coromandel. As always the first kilometers with luggage take some getting used to, and now I was carrying front panniers as well for the first time. Soon enough the bike and I become a team and we move fine together. I love travelling on water and I spend most of the 2 hour trip looking out at the numerous islands we pass, and staring at the water and sky with a silly grin on my face. The first island makes me think I have fallen in an Eyvind Earle landscape. I will have this thought more often the coming days. The hills and trees and colours are just so like his paintings. 

I get off in the rain in Te Kouma Harbour and set off for Coromandel Town. Considering the forecast (severe weather warnings) for that afternoon and tomorrow I decide to find a campsite in town and sit the storm out. I decide for a campsite not by the beach but a bit more up the hill because it is supposed to become very windy with large waves. Later that day I was very glad with my sturdy fairly small tent, which has now been rigourously tested, stays fine in (observed gusts of) 110 km/h winds and dry inside during prolonged heavy rainfall. I was slightly concerned at some point because there was so much rain that the ground couldn't take it all in and the puddle was actually rising into my outer tent. 

I watched some panicked campers pack up their tent which did not take the wind well and wondered to myself whether people understood the use of guy ropes. I feel safe and sound in my tent and this gives me a chance to recover a bit more from jetlag and raid the campsite library. The following days I would encounter the aftereffects of the storm; parts of the coastal roads and campsites on the west and north side of the peninsula had been damaged by the storm. Bonus is that a lot of tourists have left because of the cyclone, so it is nice and quiet - just as I like it.

So 2 days later than planned I exit Coromandel town. I leave with a bit of rain but, since it is around 24 degrees, high humidity and a pretty hilly road, I soon cannot distinguish between sweat or rain. I expect the first couple of days to be hard. My cycle muscles are not trained for hills and I am carrying a lot of weight (myself and luggage). So I curse myself perfunctorily but I remain optimistic, even though I find the hills pretty hard to get up and I have to stop uphill to breathe more than I expect. I make progress slowly and passing a buddhist retreat, decide to take a break in their garden, which, after being invited in for a cup of tea, turned into pitching my tent next to a stand of bamboo between pukeko birds and spending a very peaceful night in a special place. 

Coromandel Peninsula - near Colville

The next day I get on the first gravel road (they call tarmac or asphalt a metalled road here, and gravel roads unmetalled, which I don't really get... what metal?). It is the first chance to try out my fat tires, and they perform very well; I have grip and feel comfortable on the bike and they cushion the gravel and stones. A nice bonus because of the storm is that most tourists have fled and now there are very few cars. I amble along the winding road up and down next to ancient pohutukawa trees. I decide to take a dip in the sea to cool off at lunchtime since today is really sunny. There is an awful hill up to Port Jackson, it is by then 3pm, there is no relief from the sun and I force and cajole my shaking legs (and mind) to just continue to that next bend, or the next pole so that bit by bit I progress to the top. Yes, a breeze! I descend to Port Jackson and decide to use the pleasant looking campsite. The caretaker shows me the damage from the storm and since it is quiet I can just choose a spot directly on the beach under a shady tree. I receive a visit from a cute curious hedgehog in my tent in the night, and also a sand lizard in my cycling shoe. The next day I appear to have gotten sunstroke and decide to recuperate, moving only to follow the shade around the tree and to cool off a couple of times in the sea.

DOC Campsite Port Jackson

Coromandel Peninsula - near Fletchers Bay

An exciting day. The road does not actually go 

around the peninsula, you can only cross from one side to the other via the Coromandel Walkway. However, I had heard and read that you could cycle it as well. I cycle the last bit of road (and hill) to Fletchers Bay, and heave my bike up the first hundred meters up a very narrow walking path. I had a small doubt that I buried, I was determined to continue. Some cyclists without luggage overtake me and slightly discouraged I see that they are pushing their bikes up the grassy slope across the valley, which looked so nice and easy from a far but was actually damn steep. And if they are pushing without luggage, then... well yeah... I push and I heave and I puff untill I finally get to an even bit of path which is a relief. I descend to sea level in Poley Bay through lush rainforest braking my bike all the way (while walking I might add, this is too steep for a bike with luggage). Then I had to get up out of this valley of course. 

I look at the path, I look at my bike. I mix in a rehydration sachet in my water and I reapply a layer of sunscreen. An hour later and three trips up and down with bike and panniers separately I am lying down panting in the shade in a switchback wondering how much further the top is. I promise myself lunch when I reached the top, the path is supposed to even out after that. Some passing walkers take pity on me, and tell me I was almost there and do I want any help carrying any stuff up the last bit? Are you kidding me, YES! Thank you kind strangers. We walk up the last 2 bends and the path does indeed even out and I load up the panniers again and walk a bit further to find a nice lunch spot with a view. I am accosted by a stick insect who moves faster than I thought it could and tickled me. 

After lunch, and when the path isn't directly next to a plunging precipice, I find the strength to start cycling again. The last hour and a half is very pleasant with stunning views and lovely mountain biking. 16 km and 8 hours further and who knows how many meters up after starting that morning I arrived in Stony Bay. Phew. Made it! I had not thought of myself in this way before but apparently this was pretty hardcore. That is pretty much the unanimous feedback I got over the next week when I told people what I had done. Stony Bay was a lovely quiet place with a river full of eels and native nesting birds. 

Coromandel Walkway - with the bike

Coromandel Walkway - with the bike

Possibly because of the dry and hot weather and/or increasing busyness I find the gravel road on the east side much harder because of the dust that passing cars raised. A persistent cough wormed its way into my throat. That made for hard cycling. At Sandy Bay a friendly runner who passed me earlier that morning kindly shared a cool beer and conversation with me. Sandy Bay had turned 'stony' because of the unusual storm. Somewhere up a further dusty hill the postman offers me and my bike a lift which I gratefully accept into Colville where I spent another lovely night at the Mahamudra buddhist retreat.

The next day I ride further south and have a rest day on a lovely rural campsite south of Coromandel Town where I amuse myself by observing a gaggle of geese, an eversinging Tui bird in tree that I camped under, 25 ducklings being reared by grandma duck, a friendly dog and many crabs in the tidal flats.

The last day on Coromandel Peninsula. I ride up the last hill in some clouds and a few spats of rain. The coastroad to Thames has a lot of damage from the storm and I cycle my way from roadwork to roadwork trying to keep pace with the cars on the one-lane sections. It is nice bit of coastline with good views to the other side of the Firth of Thames, but fairly busy with cars. I pass quickly through Thames and start on the Hauraki rail trail, my first actual cycle route in New Zealand. It is very flat and easy riding on a gravel track. It is a relief not to have any cars to worry about. I have a brief stop at the Cheese Barn, where I am unfortunately too late for a cheese board but they do still have carrot cake and mango lassie. Yum! This night I spend a lovely evening with warmshower hosts up in a valley near Paeroa, and we swap cycling stories and ponder a world without the voice of sir David Attenborough narrating nature documentaries. None of us can imagine it.

Hauraki Rail Trail

The next morning I pick up the Hauraki rail trail again as I cycle on towards Te Aroha. I make a slight detour into the mountains to look at a gorge but it is very busy with day cyclists and walkers - too busy for my taste. My detour is made worth it though when I encounter Family Quail. I surprise them crossing the road. They are the most funny creatures. Mum and Dad Quail and about 6 of their brood race across the path right before my wheels but the rest of the chicks run back into the 'safe' side and are now separated. Now armed with my camera I lie in wait but all my efforts are not quick enough to catch them in a photo, I have about 5 photos of an empty road now... The chicks (about the size of a golf ball) basically zoom across like little leaves blowing in the wind. The phrase 'born to run' seems apt. The rest of the day I have only to think of them to start laughing. I do get a photo of Mr Quail who looks back at me and poses a moment before running off.

Mr. Quail

I cycle peacefully through the Hauraki plains. Many fields are full of dandelions, daisies, corn flowers and clover. Cows graze with purpose and are driven from field to barn in the evening sun. Insects zoom and buzz away and white butterflies dance on the soft summerbreeze like snowflakes on a crisp winterday. No wonder Peter Jackson chose this landscape for filming 'The Shire'. The land is peaceful and plenty and full of livestock and growing crops, the soil is perfect for making (hobbit) holes. Nice and dry volcanic ash. I pass Matamata (Hobbiton) and sleep on a campsite quite near the movie set but do not visit. I see enough of the landscape to feel the Shire. 

'The Shire' near Matamata

On to Rotorua...