The road climbs steadily, trees obscuring the views on either side. Suddenly, the hill crests and the valley drops before me. The Waima Forest surrounds me, all greens and browns against a pale grey sky. It has been raining off and on since I left Paihia, and I’m anxiously awaiting the west coast to see if the sun will grace me with its presence in time for sunset.
The turnoff for my hostel appears on my left and I swerve off into a gravel, one-lane road that takes me higher and higher into the forest. On the horizon, high upon the hill, I spy a farmstead. This is where I’ll spent the night: a wilderness farm set at the entrance to a DOC walk, where I can hear the call of the Morepork and hope to hear the calls of the Kiwi. I am greeted by Lois, a lovely and warm white-haired lady with bright eyes and a quick smile. She gives me a quick tour and then a few pointers. I’m off again, this time for the Opononi Heads for sunset.
The sky has been growing ever clearer, although it mists here and there as I drive. I descend into Opononi and the Hokianga Harbour widens as it approaches the mouth. The wind whips offshore, sending the water into little ripples of current that brush the shoreline with a mere kiss. The sun breaks through the clouds in a spray of light and the way that it shimmers on the water and on the rocks still wet from the tide floors me. I start looking for a place to pull off so that I can take a picture. I end up stopping on the Opononi waterfront; music streams from the open door of the restaurant on the hill but I only have ears for the surf as it breaks on the rocks and eyes for the sunlight that seems to have captivated the water and the sky, a brilliant white light that obliterates the clouds and the sand dunes behind it.
Ahead of me, the sun shines brightly on the horizon before dipping behind a thin line of dark grey clouds. A rainbow appears to my left and I actually gasp out loud: it is so close, I could touch it. I pull into South Station Road and park at the carpark. The rainbow now appears to end in the cow field behind the car park, I can see it touching the grass in front of a tree. The other end of it dips into the dark green hills above Opononi.
I walk toward the reserve. The wide track leads to a thin track that leads to a few off-track paths. I explore the warren of sandstone rocks, sandy dunes, and manuka, kanuka, and tea trees that grow unencumbered on this remote head. I stand on the edge of the cliffs, the beach below a beautiful mess of boulders tossed carelessly there by the Tasman Sea, tide pools that glisten in the late afternoon sun. The sea breaks far offshore and from up here it looks terribly shallow, like I could just wade into the surf for miles. But I know the sea is a relentless killer; stories of shipwrecks abound in these parts of New Zealand.
I wait, hoping the sun will reappear, give me a stunner sunset that only I will see. It doesn’t, but the sky lights up in reds and oranges. To my left, a fog bank sits, waiting to roll in, and I can see rain behind me, somewhere over Rawene and Kohukohu. To my right, the sand dunes of Hokianga roll north toward Ahipara. They’re pale golden against the ice blue water and the orange sky. They seem to disappear into the mist but I think it’s a trick of the light; nothing really disappears into mist.
I take one more short walk, through a dense grove of Manuka trees. I love these trees; they grow low to the ground with a high canopy and their limbs are thin: if I was a child, I’d want nothing more than to crawl amongst them, pretending I’m living off the land or exploring uncharted continents. The trail ends on the top of the head. I can see more of the beach from here, I can see all the way back to Opononi and Omapere. I can see the lights of a car driving along the Koutu Loop Road, and lights from cars across the harbour.
I’m all alone in this wilderness and I’m so happy I could cry. It’s phenomenal, it’s pure, it’s magical. I’m incredibly sad to turn my back on the endless ocean and return to my car, but it’s getting dark and I don’t have a torch. I reach the trail and just as I’m about to walk to the main path, I spy a tiny, well-worn path off to the right. I can see that it leads to some sandstone rocks and I’m just a little bit curious so I step off the trail and follow the trodden brush to the rocks. I clamber on to the rocks and I’m rewarded with another stunning view: the cliff edges along the beach below.
The fog bank is moving in now and I can see the rain within it, so I make moves toward my car. I spin in circles a few times, laughing to myself that this place could be real. Every single landscape that I lay eyes on in this country astounds me, gob smacks me. I can’t pick a favourite, they’re all unique in their own way and all wondrous. I climb back into my car as the first raindrops fall on the windshield. The harbour falls away before me as I turn back onto the road and make my way back toward the mountain. I arrive home in time to see the sky light up a glorious orange on the hills beyond.