A good strip of slightly grey-ish sand (you can't have everything), shelving gently into the bay, lots of people were out enjoying it. In fact, there were lots of people generally, many wearing lanyards... It turned out there was a cruise ship in. Apparently since the 2011 earthquake, they've been coming up Akaroa, as their previous port, Lyttelton, was badly hit. A mixed blessing - lots of money pouring in, with the entrepreneurial making the most of it running businesses from their front gardens (an elderly gentleman in a chauffeur's cap offering tours in his vintage car; and another, younger man, doing the same (for $50 dollars each) with his five-person Harley-styled trike). But also lots of people. But it was still lovely on the beach - Jemima had a great time playing in the sand with whoever was nearby, and splashing in the waves; and I did my customary chilly swim, this time out to a platform in the bay which I then (inelegantly) jumped off (I normally do breaststroke with my sunglasses on, so actually going under is testament to my excitement at the setting - I couldn't resist...).
Time to move on: we walked to the other end of town to see the lighthouse, through the throngs of visitors on the main strip, and then into peace and quiet just beyond that: Akaroa is just so pretty, with charming old wooden houses and front gardens full of flowers; and so French: the tricolor was everywhere; the road names are French (we had to walk down Rue Jolie [Pretty Road] to get into town from the marina; and even the Thai restaurant was called La Thai. Then back to the main strip for lunch. By this time it was really very hot - hot enough to get us worried about how we're going to survive in Australia where temperatures in Sydney are over 40 degrees at the moment - as Kevin said, we might miss the rain (that'll teach me for moaning...). So after lunch, we retreated to the motorhome for some shade and a siesta.
Restored, it was time to move. We'd noticed some freedom camping spots near the Lighthouse, so fancying a change of scene, and planning a dinner in, we moved from the central marina to the very far, quiet edge of town. We parked up on the edge of the road along the bay, looking over a little beach and sailing boats moored on buoys. Jemima and I packed a picnic (she got very excited about choosing what to take), and we all gingerly trod down a rickety wooden chicken-wire-covered plank onto the beach. Beer and crisps for Kevin and I; biscuits, cucumber and water for Jemima; then a play, drawing in the sand, throwing pebbles in the sea, and looking at the snails and mussels stuck to the rocks. The sun was finally cooler, and it was a beautiful evening (although there was nearly disaster returning from the beach - Kevin and Jemima decided to take a short cut up a grassy slope, but got stuck; so I came out of the motorhome where I was making dinner to help, and then I nearly slipped back down to the beach. At one point we were in a chain: Jemima at the top holding my hand, Kevin at the bottom holding my ankle, and me in the middle, flat on my front, laughing too much to move. But we got to the top safely in the end, and Kevin even managed a return trip to retrieve Jemima's water bottle while had been sacrificed in the ascent).
Dinner in the van (burgers, lamb steaks and salads), and then bedtime to the sound of the waves. What a great last motorhoming night in New Zealand. As Jemima said at dinner, "I just wish we could stay here for every day."
Akaroa:
Beach:
Tickles at lunchtime:
Picnic:
"K" and "J" drawn by Jemima:
Glad you have enjoyed NZ.. So much to see.... You will have to go back again!! I love the Banks peninsula.. So pretty.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy OZ!!