Days 3–4: Taranaki to Raglan
Lunch in the sun, black sand beaches, and (almost) death by pigs
After hiking in Taranaki, our next stop was the more laid-back Raglan — famous for its surfing and black sand beaches. Our drive to Raglan took us along State Highway 3 which had some beautiful scenery and extremely winding roads — it’s a good job Anna doesn’t suffer from travel sickness! Coastal views and long roads through tree-lined valleys made for a very pleasant journey.
Once we arrived in Raglan, we sat down for a much-needed lunch on the waterfront. At first, we struggled to find a free bench to sit at until we remembered that we have our own table and chairs! It’s obviously going to take a bit of time to adjust to owning more than what we have in our backpacks.
We definitely noticed a temperature difference travelling from Wellington to Raglan. It was very warm and sunnier than the photo makes it seem.
From there, we made our way to the campsite. We stayed at Te Kopua Whanau Camp.
As we only stayed in Raglan for the one night, we didn’t take long to settle before heading back out to Ngarunui Beach. It’s the main beach in Raglan and, as I mentioned, famous for its black sand.
It turns out that wearing flip-flops is a good idea on black sand unless you want to risk your soles melting through to the bone — I guess it makes sense that black sand gets HOT. We had a lazy afternoon enjoying the sea and the sun before ending the day with mash and beans back at the campsite.
The following morning, we took our time getting up and then took a stroll along the waterline of a nearby beach.
Our last stop in Raglan was Wainui Reserve Bush Park — a small reserve with relaxing bushwalks.
At least, it was relaxing until I nearly got mauled to death. We came to a stile that seemed like it was meant to be used to carry on the walk. I went ahead and soon discovered that this assumption was wrong when two hogs came charging at me. I shouted something along the lines of Oh, shit! before legging it and hoping that I could outrun them in my flip-flops. Thoughts of Mason Verger being eaten alive by his own pigs in Hannibal flashed through my mind as I scrambled back over the stile.
Fortunately, unlike Mason, I lived to tell the tale. I can just imagine what the headlines would have been if I hadn’t…
VEGAN DEVOURED BY PIGS IN CRUEL DISPLAY OF IRONY
