Come with me, to the Sea.

As a child growing up in New Zealand, summer holidays were a highly anticipated escape from the rural life at my parents’ market gardens. They worked diligently to cultivate fruits and vegetables for the community, leaving little time for leisurely summer vacations. From the age of 10 my excitement would build as I packed my bag, ready for my solo adventure. I’d hop on the bus to Cambridge, where my Grandma awaited me with open arms and a warm smile.

After spending a few lovely days with Grandma, she’d whisk me away to Waikino, a place where I’d revel in the company of my cousins, Aunty and Uncle. Among them was Casey, affectionately known as “my twin.” We share the same birthday, although she had the distinction of being born three hours ahead of me, making her the older and wiser one. Her mother and my father were siblings, creating a sense of familiarity and shared experiences and those summers became the highlight of our youth.

Together, Casey and I embarked on countless adventures. We explored the lush bush, hopped on the train to Waihi for milkshakes and visited the Gypsy fair.  We swam in the warm waters at Waihi beach,  ending the day with hot chips, which in my opinion, always tasted better with sun-kissed skin and salty hair. We started each day with my Aunty’s freshly baked bread, still warm and smothered in honey. Meanwhile, my Grandad resided in a cozy bus tucked away on the property. The air around him carried the sweet and spicy scent of tobacco as he regaled us with tales of his Navy escapades and patiently taught us the art of poker.

Each moment was a taste of freedom and pure happiness. As a child who never quite felt at home anywhere, those summers by the beach provided solace. I blossomed in the simplicity of life, completely at peace with myself and immersed in the moment. The thought of summer’s end was bittersweet—I didn’t want it to fade away. But reality beckoned, and I reluctantly bid farewell, tears streaming down my face as I journeyed back home. Yet, I clung to those cherished memories, eagerly awaiting the next summer when I could relive them all over again.

This summer at age 42, I decided to seek this sense of peace and freedom once again.

Three decades have woven a tapestry of life—its highs and lows, the joys of raising three children, the pain of divorce, and the pursuit of dreams that remained just out of reach and the constant lessons. Amidst it all, a longing emerged: the need to simply exist. My adult years hadn’t seen much travel beyond sporadic holidays...until this summer—an unexpected gift as life aligned and invited me to go on an adventure. It granted me the chance to explore the contrasting coastlines of the Coromandel peninsula, rekindling the boundless freedom of my youth and falling in love all over again.

Life shifts when we cease gazing backward or stretching forward. True happiness resides in the simplest moments: those languid mornings witnessing the sunrise, cradling a freshly brewed coffee. The birds, steadfast in their routines, become our companions—dancing across the sky, diving for fish. The day’s hues transform from blue to pink to gold, while the waves tenderly caress the shore.

And then there are the rocks—silent witnesses to eons past. In their rugged faces, I find hidden giants—imaginary beings who once roamed this earth. One day, as I stood by the cliffs overlooking Kirita Bay, I glimpsed Yoda himself, etched into the rock.  This place, a secret gem nestled on farmland, where the NZMCA-registered can find solace—a private oasis, untouched by time.

In these moments, nostalgia intertwines with the present, and I am whole. The summer sun kisses my skin once again, and I vow to hold onto this magic, knowing that seasons change, but memories linger.

Let me take you on a journey beginning on the west coast of the Coromandel. This is a ruggedly beautiful stretch, where pebbly beaches and oyster covered rocky shores evoke a sense of remoteness and wildness. The quaint Coromandel Town, steeped in history from gold mining to kauri logging, exudes its own charm and is a nice place to wander. From there, my journey wound through Colville, ascending into hills that led me to Fantail Bay and Port Jackson—these northernmost tips of the Coromandel await, each with its own story to tell and the sheer vastness of the landscape is rather humbling.

 

The east coast of the Coromandel beckons with a different kind of allure—a tranquil haven where pristine white sandy beaches meet crystal-clear waters. Here, a serene calm envelops you, and the beauty is nothing short of picture-perfect. Let me take you on a nostalgic trip through these coastal gems: Around the corner from Port Jackson is Waikawau, this beach is accessible via a DOC campsite and feels as though you are stepping into another world. As you traverse gravel roads, winding through spectacular hills and farmland, you’ll arrive at an amazing long white sandy beach. And when the conditions align, it even boasts a decent surf break. Here, it’s as if you’ve left the cares of the world behind, embraced by the rhythm of the waves and the vastness of the horizon. . You cannot travel to the Coro without visiting Whangapoua, where you can also find New Chums Beach, voted one of the top 10 beaches in the world. To reach it, you’ll walk along rocks and through bushland. The journey is part of the magic. And as you stand there, toes in the sand, you’ll decide for yourself whether this is one of New Zealand’s best beaches. Before you leave you must climb to the very top to get the best view, where the world unfolds before you. The track heads straight up, and the ascent is pure joy. At the summit, a perfect view awaits—a canvas of land, sea, and sky. It’s a highlight etched in my heart, a moment when curiosity and excitement danced together. If you carry on a little further you come across a small village called Kuoatunu, this place captured my heart. Its lovely beach invites you to linger, while ancient Pohutukawa trees stand guarding the shore. But there’s more: You must visit Luke’s Kitchen—a cozy spot where freshly made pizza mingles with the ice-cold New Zealand Pinot Gris. As the sun dips below the water, romance hangs in the air, and memories etch themselves into your soul.

The Coromandel is a place that restored my peace of mind. Here, I marvelled at the wonder of nature—the roar of the Pacific Ocean, the softness of pristine white sand, the rugged embrace of unique rocky bays. I swam in crystal-clear waters, where sometimes a stingray would glide gracefully beneath me, I  fished for snapper, and met kindred spirits. Locals and travellers alike welcomed me with warmth, sharing stories and laughter. And as I learned and explored, my heart swelled with curiosity, and the thrill of discovery became my constant companion.

 Travelling this beautiful part of Aotearoa revived my soul and taught me again the importance of slowing down. I was also reminded to go further, walk around that rocky corner, climb that cliff to the very top, push yourself beyond what is right in front of you, explore, take risks and remember who you were before the realities and responsibilities of life told you who you had to be.

 

 

 

 

 


Leave a comment