SUNDAY 21st NOVEMBER:
As the long pathway beacons I sit soaking up the last crap TV I am going to get for the next few months in the cosy kitchen of a Hamilton campsite. I figure that the more I have to purge from myself along my pilgrimage the more theraputic it will prove to be. Its an excuse I can use for pretty much anything from food to alchol but in reality I have been fairly restrained. No fast food feasting or three day binges anyway!!!

Hamilton is a fairly unexiting place (apologies to any Hamiltonites, you are welcome to show me the nice bits) and I have only found myself here as this is where my bushcraft/survival course started out from. I have just returned from my first night in the New Zealand bush, albeit a night surrounded by survival experts and tramping enthuaiasts, and I am now a bonafide bushbaby! It was a really useful course and although most of it was common sense stuff I did learn to compass read and navigate with a map. Two skills that I am going to get a lot of practise at over the coming months. I also gained some possible walking companions for my stretch past Hamilton after Christmas which was a special bonus, especially as they were the instructors themselves. I may be teaching them a few tricks by then but I doubt it somehow!

So I am ready to start as soon as I can get to Cape Reinga. Im bush trained, tramp equipped and have a fairly detailed route planned back to Auckland. My pack has been stripped of all non essential items (I still have my iPod but left the deoderant and sandals! In the event of any search you will be able to smell me a mile off!!), my campstove has been christened and this is going to be the third sucessive night I will have slept in my tent. You could almost say I was tramp savy except that its only the tramping part I have yet to practice. All good things..... and the waiting is all but over.

Despite the challenging bush I just encountered over the weekend I am feeling happy and confident about the unfirling challenge before me. After so much anticipation and idle walk banter my feet are itchy and my fate is ripe for the picking. no matter how meticulously one plans ones trip, and I have been far from meticulous (please not too much worrying. I havent left any safety issues upto chance.), the multitude of fates that reach out to be grabbed can never be predicted and will always hold constant adventure. My patchwork lattice of chaos and coincidence has already begun and I fall open armed and wide eyes into the futures clutches.

SATURDAY 27th NOVEMBER - A BLESSED BEGINNING
Bag packed and adrenal glands primed I got my trusty thumb out for my last motorized stretch up to Cape Reinga before becoming a permanent pedestrian. A really nice old Maori couple took me most of the way, kindly dropping me 5km beyond their house at a petrol station where I would be able to pick up another lift easily. Just as I was heading roadside again I asked a group of lads in a camper if they were heading north. "Jump in but we are going sand boarding first." I was powerless to complain and they dragged me, entirely against my will obviously, to the biggest dunes I have ever seen and hurled me off the top on a body board. As I sped down the near vertical face of the sand tsunami the board felt like it was hovering on air as it carried me far into the flats below. An absolutely amazing experience apart from the climb back up! From the top of the dunes I caught my first glimpse of the glimmering ocean that I was going to become very accustom to over the next few days. As I stood leaning into the wall of wind my excitement was building and I was eager to get walking, the storm before the calm rousing me into the moment of no return.
 
Cape Reinga holds a special place in Maori legends as it is where ones soul flies after death on its path to the afterlife. In some myths ones soul is transmutated into a moth and it flies over the cliff edge on its final journey. Thinking about it, a place imbued with such a spiritual significance is a strange place to start a long journey from; rather it would be a more appropriate place to end. This, however, will not be my last long journey and it felt right to be walking away from these fabled cliffs rather than be flapping towards them. 
 
The myth adds to what an amazing place Cape Reinga is in a geographical sense. It is the meeting point of the Tasman and Pacific oceans and you can clearly see the glowing azure Tasman waters colliding with the endless blue depths of the Pacific, their embrace marred on the surface by choppy swell like a huge fault line on the oceans surface. It was an awesome sight to behold while trying not to be blown from the panoramic cliff tops. As sunset approached you could see a storm out to sea coming towards us from the direction of the sun. It was going to just miss us but we caught the edge of it. As the tentacle of rain passed over us the sun emerged from between the clouds and punctuated the sky behind us with the most incredible rainbow I have ever seen. It was almost circular and it stretched high into the dark sky above from its source on the sea just below us. It was a truly awe inspiring sight that my feeble words cannot do justice. I felt blessed at witnessing this stunning spectacle and I took its beauty as a good omen for the hard months ahead; the gods smiling in amusement at my foolhardy plans...
 
SUNDAY 28th NOVEMBER - MY NEW BEST FRIEND
It was another crazy windy night and I had woken regularly to see my tent straining around me as it attempted to fight off the winds onslaught. I woke alert to my alarm at 5am and headed down to the lighthouse for dawn before I finally set off along the coastal path. As I reached the first beach I encountered my first bit of difficulty. The full moon tide was 3 hours from high but it was still grasping at the rocks and cutting off the entrance to the beach. Taking a small goat path I thought I would just nip over the small bit of headland but scrambling up steep tracks isn’t easy with a pack on. After huffing and puffing I got to the other side and I had to take my pack off to physically lower it down a small cliff to the beach. It was a small obstacle and I was soon trundling down the beach, Cape behind me and the whole of NZ ahead. I kept peering back at the lighthouse as the fact that I had started sunk in slowly. I don’t think it will fully sink in for a few days, at least until the blisters settle in!
 
Before the next beach I had to cross a large headland with the path marked by orange triangles. I soon found myself in a huge sand bowl with no sea in sight. No sooner had I left the beach I found myself in an empty moonscape fighting my way up the smooth dunes. I soon lost the orange track markers but I carried on, thinking I would see one soon. It seemed like the obvious way and when I eventually saw some footprints I was reassured. Little did I know that they must have gone the wrong way as well! With the dunes behind me I was soon up to my knees in strange spongy grass, struggling with every step. I decided to have a quick gander at the map after realizing this couldn’t be the path and it looked as if I could just nip up to the ridge and rejoin the path. A bit more spongy grass and some huge triffid like foliage and I was back on track, again relieved I had overcome another small test.
 
A quick nibble on some scroggin (dried fruit and nuts. A kiwi term!) and I marched onwards towards Twilight beach, the last one before the goliath that is 90 mile beach. The sun was out and I sweated my way along the track, the bush varying from small scrub to 10ft high brush wood. Hot and tired I forged on, planning to have my lunch at the start of 90 mile. All of a sudden the bush around me shrank to reveal my first sight of my new best friend for the next three days, 90 mile beach herself... She stretched out into a haze of sea mist obscuring the horizon, waves crashing along her entire length in a relentless barrage of abuse. I stood in awe for a few seconds, trying to take in the sheer scale of it all. In the days ahead as my legs cried out for help I would come to realize this scale in its true form.
 
Refreshed and full stomached I sauntered off, glad to have some flat ground in front of me. I soon passed the stream leading to the dunes I was sliding down less than 12 hours before. I picked a stream ahead on the map to spend my first night and forged on. After pitching my tent and bubbling up a curry I noticed my tent was on a convergence of animal paths. Too tired to move it I just crossed my fingers hoping that I would not get a nightly visit from a herd of wild boar. The smell of my boots should keep everything away!
 
MONDAY 29th NOVEMBER - 90 MILE BITCH
It could have been a work day as I turned off my alarm and slept for another half an hour. It wasn’t raining, my tent hadn’t been ravaged by a herd of wild beasts and I wasn’t aching too much so it was a good start to the day. I wanted to get some Kms under my feet today as I estimated I still had a good 70kms to cover. In the morning I had a bluff to head for  but after passing it the beach just stretched on as far as I could see with no discernable features to set my sights upon. Today was the most difficult psychologically as I had nothing to aim for and the beach laid its self out identically km after km. My legs were starting to hurt and all I could do to drive myself on was to pick bits of drift on the beach to head for. There were many washed up creatures on the beach and over the three days I saw an octopus, a seal, what looked like a huge decomposing whale rolling in the surf and a huge array of jellies from small spotty ones to ones that looked like half inflated novelty condoms. I tried to pop a few, remembering my mum's stories of popping Portuguese men of war on the beaches of South Africa as a child, but they just squelched under my boots.
 
A light rain had started, my legs killed and I was feeling pretty disheartened knowing the distance still to cover and anticipating a wet and solemn night ahead. I left the beach for cover in the pine forest behind the small dunes. The forest was eerie quiet as soon as I limped inside its needle softened embrace. I could have slept right then but I didn’t feel comfortable about pitching my tent in the deathly quiet wood. I decided to cook some food and hope it would clear up enough to do some more distance before dark. After another soul filling curry the weather did ease and I set off once again, practically dragging my pain riddled legs behind me. I had to start at a slow limp until my legs had warmed up and the stream of tour buses steaming past me only darkened my mood. A 4x4 stopped and the lads inside asked if I needed a ride. It felt like a test at the hardest point so far. It would have been easy to just jump in and speed off down the flat featureless sand to a warm bed but my resolve wasn’t going to crack so soon after beginning.
 
Eventually I came to what looked like a dried up stream and I had a good feeling it would be the best place to camp up. Getting closer I could see others had thought the same. I pitched my tent in the wind and rain, flapping layers making a mockery of my fumbled attempts. Eventually it was up and I was laying out my bed for a well needed sleep. I poked my head out to see the clouds clearing and decided to sit on the dunes for a well needed sunset. As the suns rays illuminated the high flying mares tails a deep orange my disheartened spirit eased to calm. The worst was over and I knew tomorrow would be the end of the 90 mile bitch!!
 
TUESDAY 30th NOVEMBER - Ahhhhhhhipara
I left early again, eager to reach the light at the end of the never ending beach. Although it was quite an amazing sight I was longing to get to the end of its eternal sand highway. A bed, a bath and a big meal was going to be dangling in front of my salivating lips all the way to the end and it was going to be the only thing keeping me going. My legs were really stiff this morning and getting into my rhythm was difficult but I eventually managed a grimaced but steady pace. The tour bus traffic was a while off and I was enjoying the solitary beach as the day warmed with my legs. After a while I could just make out the end of the beach and its emergence pushed me on through the pain barrier. I had got my iPod out and was singing my way towards the end with a smile on my face. It was a far cry from the day before when I was trying cheer myself up with an out of key and jumbled rendition of “Always look on the bright side of life”, the words getting sniped from my lips by the vindictive breeze.
 
My water was low and I was rationing every sip. I eventually came to a stream and filled up, stopping shortly after for lunch. As I finished up all my leftovers the cicadas serenaded me with their soothing song as I soaked up the shade. Ahipara was in the distance and I stumbled off refreshed towards the oasis, only sand and surf between me and comfort. After I had finished all my snacks I just forced myself on, the sugar rush failing to make an impact on my reserve sapped muscles. The end just didn’t seem to be getting closer. One kilometer turned into ten and every step triggered a multitude of pains. I was so close now and I stopped and asked some sail boarders where I could stay. They said the quickest way was to cut across the golf course behind the dunes so I gladly left the beach behind, my pains forgotten.
 
So there I was, struggling up the fairway towards the 18th hole, club house in sight. I needed a caddy, that wouldn’t be against the rules would it!! A motel sign came into view and I dragged my way towards it. I must have looked an absolute sight. Red faced and steam coming out of my ears I asked for a room and was shown to my double bed and hot shower. I heaved the pack off my back and breathed a huge sigh of relief. The lovely motel owner, Deborah, brought me a cold beer and invited me for dinner. What an angel! She saved my life three times in one day and I can never thank her enough. Over the coming days she adopted me into her home for every meal and fed me back to health. Thank you, Thank you Thank you!!! I couldn't have needed it more.
 
I had made it to the end of the first stretch and it was going to take a few days to recover. I had covered about 115km in three days and it was definitely the longest walk I had ever done. That was going to be the longest single stretch I would have to do hopefully and I was overjoyed to have finally got to the end in one piece.

The Start. hanging on for dear life!		A Good Omen
Postcard Shot		90 Mile Bitch

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