Kawhia to Marokopa – 44 miles

Sadly, despite an estuary side pitch I never saw the water next to the shore. The tide came in during the night and had left by the morning. However, I did hear it lapping against the shore as I occasionally stirred from my deep sleep during the night. Another waking time was 3.24 am when one of the several contractors staying on site in a cabin fired up his diesel truck and headed off to work.

If you’re cocooned inside a camper van or caravan you have some sound insulation: in a tent you have none. The other crews all were up and around after 5am; so was I as I had to deal with a wet tent after another tumultuous dawn downpour. Amongst this batch of loggers was a lad smoking some cannabis. Clearly his early morning ‘pick me up’. Let’s hope he’s nowhere near heavy equipment. Looking at signage there are considerable concerns over water preservation normally around here. I feel like a Messiah as I have brought daily lashings of rain to wherever I go!

I make some porridge and have a coffee everyday before I leave the campsite but am always interested in something else for sustenance on the road. Kawhia had two stores run by Chinese/Asian ladies and some essential purchases were made.

Frankly, it’s all ‘industrial’ grade food such as pies and fried food for the contractors. Of course, it’s hearty enough for me but I’m starting to wish for something else now. Despite all the cattle there is no cheese? I’ve not seen it on any menu or in a sandwich. If this wasn’t perplexing enough then your average Kiwi has issues with chicken as well. I wish I’d known this in advance and arrived with my expectations adjusted.

After some purchases it was time to go starting with an enormous hill that foretold the day again. For my entertainment and to make the ride go more easily I often listen to the radio or podcasts. I can get evening football matches or mid evening news programmes. As for the news when in the UK it all seems a lot more engaging and current. Over here you listen with a little detachment thinking it’s the same old issues, people and problems merely rotated.

Today was all tarmac and the focus was on one 262 metre climb. As I’m climbing the gradient was variable and thankfully it eased a bit as I ground slowly upwards. My Garmin computer tells me when I’ve reached the summit and on the particular hill I celebrated with an egg sandwich!

The beauty of New Zealand is starting to appear. I like anything rural but we all look for drama or eye catching. A feature is of course the small little hills that seem to have been dropped everywhere with their pointy appearance and always covered in grass and often livestock.

Some respite came with cycling beside a lake and it even produced a bench where I felt compelled to pose for a photo. Sitting options are absent in this countryside and this table and bench were quite a find! (I’m easily pleased, I know.)

These short days are because the camping or lodging options are limited in the area and so you take what you can. Frankly the all day climbing with little nothing flat meant it was hard work as soon as you sat on the saddle. One run of flat came along beside a lake before more quad burning ascension.

Soon I was bowling into Marokopa and as I was cycling west I endured a headwind, if fact if you steer west there is always a headwind, but it was flat at least on the final run in. The number of horses in the fields are many and I, later, asked a fellow camper about them. They’re popular pets and very much part of the Māori culture. He was visiting but had been a local. He said back in the day children rode them to school, tethered them for the day, and then rode home after school. These indigenous people quickly adopted the animals after the Europeans arrived and, to my eye, they all look fine specimens living nice lives in lush pastures. There are hundreds. I suspect, amongst themselves, like me, they must moan about the weather.

So Marokopa was (only just) more than a one horse town. However apart from some smart houses, that looked like second homes, and a campsite it had absolutely nothing else! In a fairly deserted campsite I paddled about doing my laundry, making dinner and eventually settled down for sleep to the sound of the nearby ocean with no contractors in sight (or sound). This is why I tour.