Feb. 18 -- Taranaki/Mokau

February 19, 2009
Taranaki, baby!

I just entered Taranaki, and after having another spectacular set of experiences, it occurred to me that every day for weeks has been filled with wonder, amazement and joy. I'm still dropping my jaw and yelling out with excitement and snapping photos at every turn, but at least at this point I'm not amazed at how amazed I am, if that makes any sense. What can I say? These are the salad days.

I drove all day yesterday to get from the Northland down to Taranaki. I arrived at this little village of "bachs" (summer houses) called Mokau at the side of a river mouth. I stepped out of the car and was instantly befriended by the friendliest black lab on the planet, who showed me around town, which was empty but for like 5 people.

I stepped onto this beautiful black sand beach littered with shells and driftwood, and discovered that the water was the warmest yet -- maybe 72. I bodysurfed some little waves, and collected some cool shells, talked to some old folks, and repaired to shore only to witness perhaps the most insanely thermonuclear sunset yet -- over a snow-capped volcano in the distance. Almost too much.

All 5 people in town came out to watch. This one kiwi woman said, "you never get tired of looking at it, do you?" I responded that the "global financial crisis" sure seems a long way, away. Some old man with a solid beergut asked me what I was talking about.

anyway, Mr. Beergut gave me the 411 on the freshest little secret campspot on the beach with surf. I got there at dusk, and was approached suspiciously by a ruddy fisherman with a flatbed truck. As it turns out, he was worried that I was also going to try to night-fish for flounder. Once he found out I was just there to surf and camp, it was all good. I got the plumb campsite, and watched the volcano's silhouette in the distance finally disappear into the starry night. I couldn't believe how pretty this was.

I woke and, lo and behold, the swell had picked up. surf time.

_________

Three things that amaze me every day:

1. the natural beauty of NZ -- off the hitherto-known spectrum for me

2. the friendliness of kiwis -- ditto above

3. the surf. why, why, why aren't there dozens of surfers like me at all these spots? As best I can tell, the reason is that NZ is just too far from the critical masses of surfers in North America and Europe.

The surf here reminds me of a story my Mom told me about a Russian emigre woman that in 1992 my Mom took to Diamond Heights Safeway -- her first Western supermarket. The poor woman wept, and said, "they lied to us! they told us this wasn't possible!" (referring to the CCCP).

In some ways, I feel like that woman every day down here. And that's real talk.