Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Muriwai: Water's End

Apparently, in addition to not knowing how to eat a feijoa, I also do not know how to eat muesli.

You'd think it's something I would have learned at some point in my 27 years, but you would be wrong. Since it most closely resembles non clumpy granola, I assumed it's eaten like like granola. Aka, sprinkled on top of yogurt.

Apparently, it's treated more like cereal and eaten with milk and yogurt. Jeanette was shocked I was eating her (very good, homemade) muesli "dry".

My American was very clearly showing, but she'd never heard of granola, so at least there's that.

Eaten right or wrong, muesli is just the ticket before you set off for an adventure. Especially when said adventure will include amazing fish and chips. 

We'd planned on spending the day in the Coromandel, but it was looking like rain, and Gerry pointed out that it was a holiday weekend, so our destination was sure to be packed with Aucklanders fleeing the city.

He directed us toward Muriwai Beach instead, which is one of New Zealand's black sand beaches. It was our first day out and about, so of course we stopped for some pictures en route.

Photo stolen from Katie's Facebook. I'm "windswept". 

For all 40 minutes of the drive we sounded like broken records.

"Oh my God it's so pretty"

"It's so green"

"So pretty"



"Is it lunchtime yet?"

Fine, the last one was just me.

After a few wrong turns, and we ended up with a bird's eye view of the beach.

Which, in predictable New Zealand fashion, was gorgeous.

Speaking of gorgeous

As for me...I stuck my landing.

Which is always surprising.

Down on the beach, there's a path that will take you up and over this cave. You can walk through it at low tide, but having not consulted our tide tables, we got there as the tide was coming in.

We scurried up the trail instead, trying to stay ahead of the field trip hot on our tails.

Because having gorgeous beaches isn't enough, Muriwai is known for it's colonies of gannets.

This is not the local term for surfer, of which there were plenty, albeit off in the distance.

Alas, a gannet is... a bird. 

Most of them had fled by the time we arrived (thank God). From August to March, the rocks surrounding the beach are covered in them.

If it were a month earlier, I could have pissed off ornithologists by being the shrieking blonde Californicus nativus. 

Since we weren't really dressed to go tramping through the bush, we went back to the cave for a few final pictures.

Where I tried to take one without my sunglasses.

Not shown: the tears streaming down my face .5 seconds later. 

So sunglasses on it is. 

As we were leaving, buses of kids began arriving. We might not be able to time tides, but we avoided the hoards of children.   

But we didn't get our fish and chips. 

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