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After scoring a rental car from Pegasus Rentals in Auckland — thanks, Andrew! — I planted myself behind the driver's seat, took a deep breath, and drove "on the left" through Auckland's morning rush hour.
Soon enough, we made our way onto twisty, curvy Highway 25a, bearing right out of Thames toward Tairua and the world-famous Hot Water Beach. After checking in at Killyrudden (and getting a warm welcome from Keith, our host), we loaded the trunk of the car with spades and towels … and, thirty minutes later, there we were.
The beach wasn't crowded; at the same time, all the world was there. We spoke to Koreans, Germans, Pakistanis, Australians, Americans, New Zealanders … the list goes on and on. Everyone there was doing the same thing: digging holes in the beach, dancing around when the blazing hot water bubbled up through the sand, mixing in a little chilly surf, and then relaxing in their own personal spas.
Our German friends were more efficient than we were, assigning jobs to each member of their group before shoveling a single scoop of sand. Being fool-hardy Americans, we just plowed right into it, and, minutes later, we had a bizarre little bath carved out on the beach. Boiling water seeped up on one side; chilly water seeped up on the other. In the middle, as it turned out, things were quite nice.
It is a strange thing to sit on the beach in a hot tub of your own making and watch the surf come in.
Afterward, we hiked the trail to Cathedral Cove — not all the way to the cove, though, because we weren't quite up to a 45-minute uphill return climb. But we did make it to Gemstone Bay, which rewarded us with a private view of blue surf pounding away at a boulder-covered beach unlike anything I've ever seen before.
Then: ice cream, lamb and mint-flavored chips, and a drive back into Tairua to meet our hosts for wine and snacks before having dinner at the one restaurant open this time of year in our sleepy seaside village.
Tomorrow: back to Auckland … but not to the generic hotel where we planned to stay originally. Before we left Eden Park, the wonderful folks in the neighborhood rallied together, organized a genuine Kiwi barbecue (Renee is making her world-famous pate and mussels, and Jude is whipping up scalloped potatoes!), and persuaded us to skip the airport reservation, return to the Eden Park B&B, and fill our last night in Auckland with a friendly, impromptu block party.
I can't wait! Meantime, if you want to see more photos of the day, you can check out my Flickr photo stream. (In fact, here's a set of photos just from today.)
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