Ahh, the beauty that is the Abel Tasman park... We rented single kayaks from SKC (remember to book ahead kids, we just about didn't make it in, and this is shoulder season!), kayaking for two days on the south end on the AT trail. The weather reports for the week said (once again) that we were to expect wind and rain, neither of which we actually saw.
The islands, coves, and beaches here are totally stunning. Most of my homemade postcards came from this trek - perfect golden beaches, caribbean blue-green water, rocky and exposed cliffs, and lush green semi-tropical forest. On our first night, we stayed at Te Pukatea bay, a cove that is virtually symmetrical, one can sit in the middle of sand, and see it extend in sweeping arcs on both sides, to form a two hundred degree arc. As the orange sun set directly in front of the tropical water, the baby-blue skies lit up with wispy pink clouds.
Meeting a young dancer from Seattle named Heather, we all sat down for a newly-invented supper. John and I took 'wattie's wok creations satay sauce', combined it with tuna, and cooked up vemicelli. This is true cuisine for backpackers! The three of us sat on the beach, meditating, feeling the suns rays slip away, listening to the rythmic crashings of the calm ocean, watching the stars poke themselves through day's drapery, considering the curiousities of the world. Tonight is a nearly perfect night in an idyllic place in the world. I almost forgot about it all...
On our second day of kayaking, John and I paddled around at no pace at all, with no target in mind other than to get to Onetahuti bay by pickup time in the afternoon. (The AT has quite a system of water taxis that shuttle people and equipment from maruhau to mutton cove) It was very realaxing to paddle these serene waters, stopping at all the idyllic beaches, viewing them from a side one doesn't normally see whilst tramping. Our last mile of paddling was extreme though - I had wished for some wave to make things interesting, and the winds delivered. As most guided tours were turning back, we decided to hit the exposed and windy coast called the mad mile. The waves were high enough to worry you if trying to turn, and the wind held us back to the point where, I would look across at the rocky coast, and realize we were literally not moving at certain points. It was an awesome hour of hard paddling into the wind, hoping that we would make it without capsizing or having to turn back. Needless to say, we landed and took a well deserved break on the beach.
I went for a swim in the still-frigid water, washed my clothes, and then went inland to a small freshwater fall to get all the hard water off. More cuisine, and we had another beautiful sunset. It turns out Heather, who was tramping the whole way, also booked the Onetahuti campsite - we met up with her again and had a long comedy fest. I leaned some new Swahili words, and we talked of life, WWOOFing, music, silly words, and the peculiarities of cultures. (especially our own) Again, another idyllic, perfect night on the beach, a scene one would think of whilst sitting in the office with closed eyes, ignoring the boss, pretending they were elsewhere.
And so begins the inland trek. We have a few locistical problems involving being up in the wee hours of the morning to make two tight tidal crossings. So Hether came over to my hammock at five in the morning - her cell phone clock was incorrect. I am up mucking around already, and wait until six to cook brekkie. John and I hoof it over our two crossings, through a forest trail, and meet up once again with Heather, who at this point, concedes with us that we might as well hike together, as it seems we are destined to do so.
We take lunch at yet another (sigh, this is getting boring) PERFECT beach - Tongariri. We continue on to camp - Awaroa and decide to send one of our party home to get the car and drive to trail's end. This is one of the complications of one-way trails, one has to get from the end back to the start to get the vehicle. (Do it without a vehicle if possible) I volunteer, but as a concession, decide to do some trail running North the night before to Separation Point. Separation point is a section of the trail that juts out north-east, with nothing but ocean on all sides for three-hundred degrees. Penguins rest on the rocks around, and seals are often sighted. When I got to the point, it was so exposed, that the wind nearly knocked me down. The view was spectacular, and I took pleanty of time to hang out with the penguins, who don't seem to do much all day. On the way back I collected some mussels for supper, and walked barefoot for a couple of hours back to camp. I started to feel a bit like a NZ longhunter.
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