On the way home from the Highland Games, we saw the turnoff for the Waipu Caves and thought that we ought to go see them. So, the next morning, Elisabeth packed a nice picnic lunch, we put on our hiking shoes, gathered up a couple of torches, and set out. The caves were pretty great, but the real attraction for us was the hiking trail there. It was a perfectly laid out track up to the top of the local hills, and traversed across privately owned land by way of little bridges over the fences. In the US, the farmers probably would not have allowed such a thing, but here, we were walking right next to the cows. The bulls were in a separate field, thank you very much. They were young, but they looked serious enough. The view was superb, and we could see where our marina is, the river winding its way to Whangarei, endless rolling hills. It reminded me a bit of how it once looked from the top of Mt Diablo, in the San Francisco Bay Area, but with much more water. We picniced under a nice tree and decided that the rest of the day should be spent "getting lost on purpose".

So, after our hike we set out, heading west. We knew it was west by the sun angle. We drove over little tiny farm roads, passed many cows. Let me digress for a moment. When we came to New Zealand, we expected sheep. Lots of sheep. Well, no longer. With the advent of modern, high tech, synthetic fabrics such as we wear sailing, the market for wool is no longer there, at least not like it was. It's cows now. Free range, happy, grass eating cows.

Another cool thing we passed was an "honor box". This is a little stand where one can buy jam or fresh fruit, and instead of paying the attendant, you put your money in the box. Honor system. I think the US had them at one time, but I think they're pretty rare now. We bought a nice bag of freshly picked organic plums for two dollars. Mmmmm, good.

All of this west driving eventually got us to the coastal city of Dargaville. We stopped at the museum on the top of the hill where the main and mizzen masts and booms from the Rainbow Warrior have been rescued and made into a touching display. If you aren't familiar, the Rainbow Warrior was the Greenpeace ship that French commandos sunk while she was docked in Auckland. The two mines they used not only sunk the ship, but also killed a crewmember. It's a very sad story, but the outcome was that France soon ceased all nuclear testing in French Polynesia. The loss was not in vain.

To lighten the mood, we hit the sand, sun and water at Bailey's Beach, the 100 km long beach. Of course, we wanted to fit in with the natives so we parked our car on the beach right there along side them. I thought we would sink, but the sand turned out to be quite firm. The locals said that one can drive the entire 100 km of the beach. Hmmmm, we didn't ask why we might want to, but got our feet wet in the Tazman Sea instead. It was warm, the water was warm, the people were nice, and of course, at the Funky Fish, the fish and chips were great, the Tui beer was cold, we were with our favorite humans, and life was perfect. Then we looked at the map to see how to get home.