Te Araroa Trail Blog Day 9: Paihia to Waikare

In the morning, I didn’t want to leave the motel.

It was so nice to wake up in a proper bed, be warm and have a proper toilet and shower. I found myself noticing how easy it was to make breakfast, just being able to boil water for a cup of tea and to pour over my instant mashed potato.

I took my time showering and washing my hair, then packed my pack (I’m getting pretty used to this now) and did some quick stretching. I was still feeling nervous about the task we had ahead of us today, but Julia had lent me a self-adhesive bandage wrap to protect my knee.

It was around 7.30AM by the time we left the motel. We took our time walking down the Main Street, and as we went I regaled Julia with all my stories of visiting this region in the past. I remembered a trip just recently, where I took a solo day drive from Whangarei to Paihia, and spur-of-the-moment hopped on a boat to take a little tour around the bay and some of the inner islands. Many years prior to that, I spent my first night in the first tent I ever owned at the Russell campsite on the other side of the inlet.

As we hiked down the Main Street, we spied a hiker coming towards us. As we drew closer, I realised it was Einstein, the guy I had initially met on the bus through to Kaitaia on Day Zero! I’d figured I’d never see him again, given his prior experience on long distance trails and his ultralight setup. But he told us he’d been unexpectedly delayed, waiting for a spare part for his ZPacks Plexamid tent. It had broken on him around a week prior and he was waiting for the part to reach him from the USA. He seemed surprised at how long it took to have things shipped to New Zealand (especially places like Paihia), and I hid an inward smile. He did, however, seem happy that his parcel was due to arrive this morning, and he could be on his way soon.

Einstein also gave us an update on the whereabouts of other hikers in the region. He’d stayed at the Pickled Parrot backpackers, popular with hikers, and informed us that there were plenty of other hikers there last night. Most of them had opted to take the kayak option to the Waikare Inlet this morning.

Julia and I had discussed this briefly the evening before. Bay Beach Hire offer the option to hire kayaks for the 3-4 hour paddle from Paihia to the Waikare Inlet. It is tide-dependent and I believe they will only hire to you if you are with at least one other person for safety reasons. It requires some on-water navigation experience, and the price of hire drops substantially the more people that are in your group: The price for two people is $100 per person, whereas for a group of 6 this drops to $70 per person. The company will, however, transport your pack to Waikare for you, and provide dry bags and other safety equipment you will need.

We had no idea that there were other hikers in Paihia at the time we had arrived, so we had assumed this trip would cost us the full $100. Having decided to splash out on the motel room, we opted not to spend any more of our precious funds on this particular mode of transport. There would be plenty of options to kayak or canoe sections in the future, and most without safe road walking alternates. The road walk would be difficult, adding roughly an extra 18km to our official trail kilometres for the day, but it was doable. Also, the kayakers had to leave at the crack of dawn this morning due to the tide, and we were happy to enjoy the comfort of our motel room instead!

After bidding Einstein goodbye, we had a look to see if it was possible to take the coastal route around the inlet at the end of the main beach, but the tide was too high. So we started to road walk around instead. As we headed up the hill, it started to rain a little bit. We stopped to put on our jackets. As I set off again, I slipped on a drain cover at the top of the hill, but managed to recover before ending up on my arse. 

 

Once we got over and down the hill we walked along another little bay before noticing a track off to the left. We checked the map and saw that this pathway was actually part of the TA route. It was very poorly signposted, we almost missed it!

Thankfully, it was a beautiful little track, winding up and down, and in and out of the bays. We later learned it was the Paihia to Opua Walkway.Paihia to Opua Coastal Walkway

The rain had held off, and the effort of hiking this track had made us too hot in our rain jackets. Stopping to take my jacket off, I took the opportunity to admire the scenery. It was nice to have a track that was a little more differentiated to walk on. My legs hardly hurt and I was really enjoying the walk.

The track passed through the Paihia Top 10 Holiday Park, and there was a neat boardwalked section through mangroves, and later another boardwalk section around some clay cliffs closer to Opua. 

Julia needed the toilet so I pressed on for a little bit. As I left her, it started to rain. Then it started to hail. It got very cold very quickly. I quickly dropped my pack and put my rain jacket and pants on again. I did not want to get wet and cold today, as I knew I’d be sleeping in my tent tonight. 

By the time we’d arrived at the Opua to Okiato vehicle ferry terminal the rain had started to ease. Although there was a ferry docked already, Julia wanted to wait until the rain stopped before we decided to cross. I wasn’t going to argue, so I went to the toilet, had something to eat and then went to the nearby Opua General Store to enquire about a water taxi service Julia had read about.

Apparently there was a small company that ran water taxis from the Opua wharf to the Waikare inlet (note that this has now changed slightly due to the 2020/21 TA re-route through this section). We figured this might be a great option, as it would allow us to skip most of the road walking section. When I eventually got the number from the lady at the shop and rang them, it turned out they wanted to charge $300 to take us to Waikare! 

Needless to say we decided to walk. 

There was a post office at the shop which was great because I’d found the room key from the Hone Heke backpackers in Kerikeri in my pack this morning! I sent that back to them and grabbed another bottle of water. If you remember, I’d ditched my bigger water bottles in Kerikeri and was now only carrying one 1L bottle. 

By the time I’d finished running my errands, the ferry had returned (it goes every 20 minutes or so, with each trip taking just under 10 minutes) and the sun was out. It was a strange feeling walking onto a ferry I’d only ever driven onto before, but the trip across was beautiful and we based in the bright sunshine whilst keeping an eye on the dark clouds a little further up the inlet.

Once we’d reached Okiato, there was nothing left for it but to start the 18km road walk to Sheryl’s place, our destination for the evening. 

At the top of the first hill, Julia mentioned there was an alternate route we could take which was not along the road called the Okiato to Russell Walkway. It was absolutely beautiful, but short. Towards the end there were lots of stairs to climb, which were a bit of work, but it made a nice change from road. 

Unfortunately, once we reached the road again it was all tedious and boring from there. We arrived at the G.A.S petrol station at the junction of Aucks and Russell – Whakapara Rd in relatively quick time, and found a shady spot underneath some small trees to have lunch.

The next section was long, and we decided to split it up into a couple of sections. First, we walked 6km to the junction to the Paroa Bay Winery. Then we decided to walk to the junction with Waikare Road (another 3.2 kilometres) before making the final 6km push to the junction with Waihaha Road and then Sheyl’s place about 2km further on.

Luckily for us, the rain had held off so far. But we were sore. My knee was aching badly, and my feet had also joined the fight. Julia wasn’t faring much better. This was our first substantial road walking section, and it was kicking our butts.

We’d probably made it about half way to the junction with Waikare Road when an older Maori gentleman named Kevin drove by. He’d already passed us once at the winery, but was heading in the opposite direction at the time. He’d since decided not to get the ferry back to the main road and was instead taking the long way round, like us. He offered to drive us to Waikare. 

It was my first hitch and I was nervous. I sat in the front seat and tried to ask lots of questions to seem comfortable. Looking back on it, I can see now that Kevin was a really nice gentleman. He told us how his wife had passed away two years ago and he’d moved back to Kaitaia from Hamilton (where he had a job he loved as a truck driver) to look after her. They owned properties all over the country and they’d set themselves up well for their retirement. He told us about his three daughters. One lives in Australia and the others in Germany. He has ten mokopuna (grandchildren)! I found myself growing sad as he told us he didn’t get to see them much. He was incredibly proud of the fact that he’d sent his girls to boarding school, and now they all had good jobs. But he was sad that their good education had taken them so far away.

I’d found myself so immersed in conversation with Kevin, that I became nervous again when he appeared to drive past the road we needed to take further up the trail. We’d told him we needed to go to Waikare, but actually our turnoff was just before the small town – he was just trying to be helpful.

After a bit of pushing he pulled over, and after much protest agreed to let us walk up the dirt road to Sheryl’s place. Again, looking back, he just wanted to make sure we got to where we needed to go. 

There was a makeshift sign at the start of Waihaha Road which said “Trail Angels: 2km”. We hadn’t realised it would be that far still, and our legs protested wildly.

It was a metal road, and hard to walk on. After what seemed like an age, we eventually found the red letterbox which marks Sheryl’s house. Our final hurdle for the day: a paddock full of cows. It was the first time we had to encounter cattle on the TA. I tried to seem confident in front of Julia, but I was nervous. We went slowly and carefully, giving the cows plenty of room. In the end, the cows seemed to want to be as far away from us as possible and kept well out of the way. 

Unfortunately for us, we had to cross a small stream before we finally reached Sheryl’s house. Julia seemed a little upset that her feet would get wet, but it didn’t bother me too much.

There was a house just across the stream. As it became apparent this was Sheryl’s house, I was taken aback. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting.

It was an old, rundown house on an unkempt section, fenced off from the main paddock. To my privileged eyes, it looked dodgy. Approaching the fence, we hollered out. No answer. After calling out a few more times, we inched our way through the gate and settled ourselves on a picnic bench in the yard, putting the umbrella up to get out of the sun.

I felt decidedly out of place. My anxious brain started playing tricks on me. What am I doing here? This doesn’t feel right. Please, let this be ok.

After a few minutes, during which we each chatted nervously to each other, each avoiding the subject, a man named Peter came along. It turned out he was Sheryl’s husband, although this wasn’t immediately apparent. He fetched us some fresh water from a big bottle and told us to make ourselves at home under the verandah at the side of the house. He let us know that Sheryl would be home from work around 6PM. It was only just after 3.30PM.

Then he disappeared off to the farm and left us alone.

We moved to the verandah area and grabbed a snack. The effort of the day had made me ravenous and in times of unease I often turn to food. By the time we’d made dinner we had both opened up that this felt a bit dodgy and we didn’t feel comfortable. 

That opened up the floodgates. Delving into a deep and meaningful conversation about what had brought each of us to the trail, we found out a lot about each other. It was during this talk that I really got to know the person that I’d been hiking with for the past week and a half. From here on out our bond only grew closer, and I began to think of Julia as a member of my family.

We sat for a few hours, resting, relaxing and getting more comfortable with the situation. Once we felt a little better, we pitched our tents and began to cook our dinner.

Around 6.30PM Sheryl finally arrived. Initially, she had a strange vibe about her, but I soon warmed to her. An absolutely lovely, warm, and genuine woman in her 60s, she works at the Four Square in Russell. She’d inherited the house from her grandmother who had owned it since the 1940s. She admitted it needed a lot of work, but I got the impression they didn’t have the money to put into it and instead resorted to just doing what they could when money allowed.

One of the more interesting aspects of the conversation was the story of why they had gone off grid. Sheryl seemed passionate about the idea that European colonisation in New Zealand had led to a detour from traditional Māori values and ways of living, and so she saw living off-grid as a way to avoid ‘colonisation’.

Soon after, she brought out her trail book for us to write in. It was the first time I’d had the opportunity to fill in my name in a trail register like this. Knowing how important these records were for hiker safety, I duly obliged. However it wasn’t lost on me that we were coming up to my first really tricky section, and I couldn’t help considering if this would be the last record of my whereabouts ever to be recorded.

Being of Māori descent, Sheryl asked us to fill out our entries in the book by giving our pepeha. This is the Māori way of introducing oneself to another, and gives a sense of legitimacy to a person through the ability to trace one’s ancestry and family history. Usually it includes a reference to a maunga (mountain), waka (canoe) and body of water such as an awa (river), roto (lake) or moana (sea).

My pepeha is:

Kia Ora Tātou.

Ko Tauhara te maunga.

Ko Taupō nui-a-Tia te roto.

Nō Taupō nui-a-Tia te ahau.

Ko Green tōku whānau.

Ko Michelle tōku ingoa.

I had to explain what this meant to Julia, and Sheryl and I tried to coax out of her what her connection to the whenua (land) was so that she could write it. We then had a mini Māori language lesson from Sheryl, which I really appreciated.

I found the entire experience a great way to connect with Sheryl, and in a small way realised that this was a large part of the reason why I’d decided to hike Te Araroa. I wanted to gain a better understanding of the cultural history of this country that had adopted me. I also wanted to get a truly Māori perspective on life, as I felt my own life lacking in this. 

We chatted for a few hours more, as Sheryl lovingly and painstakingly prepared a meal for herself and Peter. She came out of the house with a stainless steel bowl filled with vegetables, and checked on a pork loin in an outdoor gas oven. The oven was filthy and she didn’t wash the vegetables before she peeled them. It looked delicious. It was amazing how much she could do with so little. I found this surprisingly refreshing.

Eventually Julia and I were too tired to go on, so we said our goodnights and made our way to our tents for bed. It was bitterly cold. Sheryl offered us a hot water bottle, which we initially refused but then agreed to accept. Unfortunately Sheryl disappeared back inside the house and must have forgotten, as it never arrived. 

I wrapped myself up in all my clothes, down jacket, quilt and beanie… and was still freezing. All night long I was kept awake by unfamiliar noises. The cows in the neighbouring paddocks ate and ate all night long. Now and again they would knock into fences and gate, and I became more petrified that they would get into our garden and trample us! At some point during the night Sheryl and Peter’s dog (“Digger”) started barking as well. 

Coupled with my fear at what was to come tomorrow, it was certainly a rough night on the nerves, but I made it through! 

And as I battled with a nervous bladder throughout the night, I even summoned up the courage to use the composting toilet at the back of the garden… my first real win of the trail so far.

prefer to watch?

Watch the full video from this section of Te Araroa below.