Te Araroa: The Days Before
I knew I would meet people along the hike; I just didn’t expect to meet someone thirty minutes after leaving the airport. The Department of Conservation (DOC) center closed at 17:00, and since I was leaving the next morning on the 7:30 bus to Kaitaia, I had to make it that day. Rather than stop at my hostel and drop off all my gear, I rushed across town to the quay.
The center was empty save for a couple booking tickets to a tourist town on the east coast. I hung around patiently until a woman came out from the back to assist me. While we were processing my payment a young girl with a backpack arrived; she was also looking to purchase a DOC hut pass.
Nicole was not only hiking the TA, but we had tickets for the same bus. With fresh passes in our pockets we strolled over to my hostel, getting acquainted along the way. She invited me to join her for dinner, but I still had several errands to run, and the long flight had tuckered me out.
The next morning we discovered we weren’t the only two TA hikers on the bus. There were three others: Chris, Ben, and Tobi. Throughout the six hour journey north we exchanged gear info, training strategies, previous trip stories, and future plans. We all had different ideas on how to get to Cape Reinga, where the hike began. Tobi had booked a tour; Ben and Chris had hired a service to drive them; while Nicole and I intended to hitch there.
At eight in the morning on the 21st of October, Nicole and I left our hostel in Kaitaia and stuck our thumbs out with big smiles. Not fifteen minutes later a police officer pulled over. We thought he was going to tell us to move along, but instead he told us to hop in and drove us to the turnoff outside of town. He was a NZ immigrant from the UK, moving to get away from the cold weather.
Before we knew it we were thanking him for his kindness and back on the side of the road, although a bit closer to our destination. The next car to stop was a couple heading home from a family visit. They drove us for almost an hour, past farmland and out into the secluded north.
It was at this point that we realized it might be a while before our next ride. Cars were scarce; the only people heading north were tourists in campervans or tradies heading to remote farmhouses to fix things. Lucky for us one of the tradies had left his apprentice at home so there was just enough space for the two of us. He talked about how most of the farms were government property. People were contracted to work the land in exchange for housing, a vehicle, and a yearly stipend.
We were still a good thirty or so kilometers from the Cape when he dropped us off. Expecting to be waiting a while, we decided to walk and hold our thumbs out. Miraculously, the second car that drove by stopped for us. Initially, the man was only going to take us about ten kilometers. But after a few minutes of good banter he informed us that he had decided to drive us the entire way. I don’t think he really understood what we were intending, in regards to our hike. He continued to recommend tourist activities, like sand dune surfing, and beach campsites that were well out of our way. We smiled and thanked him for all of his advice and for driving out of his way.
At ten forty we arrived at Cape Reinga; the real journey was about to begin.
