However, the Waitakere train was the only train not operating that day. It was replaced by a bus service going along the same route, which took about half an hour longer than the train would have. The end of the route landed me in Waitakere city, a very small town that I had to walk through on the way to the coast. There weren't any information centers or hiking trails particularly close to where I reached the edge of the national park, so I walked on the side of a road that went through the ranges. There wasn't a clear footpath so every few minutes when I heard a car, I'd step into the little ditch off the pavement and wait until the car whizzed past.Even with the cars, it was a pleasant hike through a peculiar mix of forest and farmland. I'd be walking along, admiring the trees and listening to parakeets when suddenly a lamb would interrupt with its loud bleating. There were also horses, cows, chickens and even a couple emu--but they weren't as
plentiful or annoying as the sheep. Apparently, New Zealand has a very large wool industry.After walking for about an hour and a half, the walk was no longer fun. I was getting annoyed by the farm animals and bored by the scenery. All of the trees and ferns looked just like what I'd seen miles before. So I got out my iPod, but the cars interrupted any zone I'd get into with the music.
After a while, a woman pulled up and offered a ride. I gauged the situation: Her daughter was in the backseat, and the floor had pieces of paper and various toys strewn about. I accepted her offer. They were going only a ways farther down the road, but she drove me all the way to the beach. The daughter was adorable. We had fun with the windy, hilly road and pretended it was a roller coaster. Her mother even drove faster over the hills to give us a bit of a jump.
Te Henga (Bethell's beach) was beautiful. Black sand mixed with golden sand, creating ribbons on the ground from the waves.There was a small inlet on the beach that only the large waves would flow into. It formed a sort of lake around one of the hills and had its own little beach on the other side. Signs were posted to beware of quicksand. Admittedly, this excited me. So I waded into the pool. It felt like regular sand. There were some parts significantly lower than the surrounding sand, and a strong current flowed through this inlet sucking water back into the ocean. I took another step and felt my foot start to sink. It only enveloped my foot an inch or two above my ankle, so I kept going and made it out of the small patch.
The personal beach I had just reached
did not have waves coming over the sand. It was an ideal location for a castle; rather, it was an ideal location for a dark lord's citadel. I decided that evil rulers need to have more representation in the realm of beach art. Some kids saw me on the little beach and waded over as soon as I left. A boy stepped very carefully inside the walls of the citadel while his sister stood by. It looked like they were going to play with or destroy it, but he simply stood inside the sculpture (perhaps pretending to rule?) and then went back into the water.The walk back to the bus stop took about three hours. Some teenage boys whizzed by and shouted. They laughed after I jumped. Otherwise, the trek was uneventful.
have you read The Bone People?
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