The road to Taranaki - Bulls to New Plymouth

We dropped our wayward hitchhiker on the side of quiet highway on the outskirts of Bulls, a town that can boast the largest bull in New Zealand. Wow. With a last wave at the North-coast Canadian boy we headed towards the black sand beaches of the Taranaki region.

The Taranaki region is renowned for many things; world class surfing, dairy cattle, oil and gas fields and abundant crops. The entire region centers around the huge, solitary cinder cone of an extinct volcano. Even on a clear summer day the top of the mountain is glazed with powdery snow and wreathed with puffy clouds. The dense New Zealand jungle rings the bottom half of the mountain and eventually gives way to the fertile flatlands that stretch out to the renowned coastline.

We drove until the deepening twilight forced us to pick a campsite for the night. We found a small holiday park on the edge of a national park and parked the van on a grassy knoll where we could hear the waves crashing below us. After the craziness of Wellington the quiet of the countryside was a welcome relief.

Morning brought rain squalls and howling winds although the light proved to us we had chosen a perfect spot to spend the night. From the van we looked down a small bluff to a narrow river running towards the beach between grass covered dunes. There was a Maori family fishing off the bridge that spanned the river, the kids playing games of tag while the adults patiently waited for their lines to yield dinner.

Iain and I headed down to the beach, winding our way cautiously along the eroding bluff. There was definitely surf in the area, but the winds and foul weather were making absolute chaos out of the waves. We decided to head up towards New Plymouth rather than spend more time at the charming camp ground. We needed more books to read and Iain was searching out surfable waves.

We spent a quiet afternoon driving along the coast, checking it at various beaches and making plans for places we could stop, but in the back of Iain’s mind he planned for us to spend a few days at Kati-kara. We picked up an armful of books in New Plymouth and promptly turned around to head up towards the volcano in search of the Kati-kara commune Iain had visited on a previous trip to New Zealand.

I shouldn’t call Kati-kara a commune, in fact it is a land co-operative that has seen many glory days in the past but has since fallen into disrepair. When we wound our way up single lane roads, past old washouts we found the current ‘owners’ who gave us access to one of the dozen or so buildings on the extensive property. The house was obviously a building that had been evolving slowly over decades. The folks Iain spoke to about staying at the place were in the process of renovating the building to make it livable for a group of troubled teen girls. They wanted to use the property as retreat space for workshops. We were told that for a few hours of labor we could call the place home for as long as we liked.

The best part of the property was the view(which we didn't take any photos of). We were surrounded by jungle on three sides with the Mountain looming right behind our heads. The property was about one third of the way up the volcano's side with no tall trees or buildings to obscure our view. We could see clearly all the way to the coast, we could watch as the sun sank below the horizon igniting the ocean with red and orange fire. Kati-kara was a balm for the soul.

The only fly in the ointment was my vertigo. It had once again reared its ugly head and I spent most of the next 2 days drinking ginger tea flat on my back. In fact I didn’t leave the van at all the second day we were there. Iain spent the day working with the co-op folks, painting windowsills and sanding doorframes, paying for our keep.

After two days we decided to head towards water once again. Raglan surfing was calling our name and I had itchy feet. We wished the Kati-kara folk good luck and headed back towards New Plymouth for one more stop before leaving the Taranaki region.

We stopped in New Plymouth to use the internet at the public library and meet up with Iain’s friend Te-wai, an absolutely wonderful woman who I will always count myself lucky to be friends with. We spent a delightful afternoon with Te-wai and her niece, visiting and swapping stories about Canada and New Zealand. It was the highlight of my trip to the region and I hope that we get the chance to see Te-wai again in the near future.

We left New Plymouth with happy hearts and full bellies thanks to the pure pleasure of Burger Fuel (BURGER FUEL!!!). We headed inland and north onto the Forgotten highway to continue our adventure.