The sands of summer
Alan Granville has gathered some of the Stuff clan to ask them a simple question: where is your favourite beach, and why.
If there’s one guarantee this summer, it’s that you are likely to burn your feet on a deceptively hot beach, or yelp in shock in a deceptively cold surf or, perhaps, do both. There’s no denying that for a lot of us, heading to the coast is very much part of our Christmas and New Year break.
So here are some of the team’s favourite spots. To get us started, here’s my cherished corner of the coast.
Alan Granville (Digital producer, Travel)
Luckily, my favourite is just one block from where I live. Lyall Bay has it all: you can swim, surf, run, walk the dog, or catch some rays.
It has some of the best coffee shops in Wellington, and you can sit back and watch the planes taking off and landing. It’s also home to Parrot dog Brewery, and the best little lawn bowls club around.
There’s a little bit of something for everyone, and all just 20 minutes from the central city.
Mike Mather (Senior reporter, Hamilton)
Cooks Beach in sunny Mercury Bay is the perfect swimming beach for young families.
Sheltered from the open seas, with the gorgeous Pu¯ rangi River at one end and the wonderful walk over the hill to Lonely Bay at the other, it is the scene of a million holiday memories. The people who live there all year round aren’t too bad either!
Kelly Dennett (News director, Sunday Star-Times)
Whangamata , in the Coromandel, has perfect white sand beaches, the pine tree-laden drive to the small town, and the classic Kiwi cafes lining the main street.
You can kayak to ‘‘Donut Island’’ where a secret cave awaits and, if you’re sick of the sun and sand, or the weather is bad, there is a ridiculously old cinema and a terribly unloved mini golf course.
Victoria Guild (Editor, Nelson)
Breaker Bay near Kaiteriteri is a short walk over the ridgeline at the end of Kaiteriteri Beach. You wander down a narrow, tree-lined path and find Breaker Bay, so called as the waves are usually bigger there than at its well-known neighbour.
It’s a smaller beach, and as no cars can park there, it feels more private and ‘‘boutique-y’’. A great spot to spend the day with a picnic, chillin’.
Kylie Klein-Nixon (Senior reporter, Homed)
It’s Petone, five minutes from Hutt City. How could it not be, with those billion-dollar views of Matiu/ Somes Island and the capital? Sunset there is about the most romantic view in the world.
It has a wild streak, too. I’ve seen spoonbills, plovers and jet black oystercatchers on the shore; swallows swoop over your head as you stroll along the pebbles.
At the other end is the dog park, where furry joy and excitement are a daily sight. In between is the Seashore Cafe, for some of the best coffee in the region. Paradise.
Sharron Pardoe (News director, Wellington)
O¯ raka Beach at Mahia is perfect for its long, private sandy beach, which sweeps five kilometres around to Ma¯ hanga.
Even with the arrival of the Rocket project on the peninsula, and the influx of workers and summer holidaymakers, it’s hard to find another person on this beautiful beach. That makes it great for baring all in a skinny dip.
Eric Janssen (Editor, Wellington)
Days Bay, Eastbourne. It’s a 70-second walk down the road from my home. It’s a friendly beach that’s packed on hot summer days, leading to traffic jams and jostling for parks (as I calmly stroll down).
The Pavilion is the go-to cafe for icecream, pizza and drinks. It also has The Boatshed for kayak and paddleboard rental.
Best of all, the ferry wharf is a ‘‘must do’’.
If you haven’t done a wharf jump, or at least watched the big boys douse ‘‘the suits’’ with mega bombs as they file off the East by West ferry, you haven’t been to Days Bay.
Josh Martin (Travel writer)
I can’t go past New Chums Beach, on the northeast coast of the Coromandel Peninsula. It’s hardly a secret spot (especially after publicised fights to stop development and retain public access), but it still retains a sliver of the unspoilt Kiwi summer.
Like all good things, you have to work for it. In this instance, it’s via a 30-minute walk from Whangapoua village (where you can stock up on essential drinks and snacks). The reward is a wide, sweeping curve of golden sand fringed by clay cliffs, po hutukawa and lush nikau groves.
Yes, it is increasingly littered with people near where the track dumps you, but walk for five minutes, and it feels as if the bay is your own, with only an in-the-know yacht bobbing in tide.
Jackie Norman (Travel writer)
Living for the best part of 10 years on the
Coromandel Peninsula, I’ve seen a lot of really impressive beaches, as you might imagine. However, nothing compares to Matauri Bay, in the Far North.
My first visit there will stay with me forever. I had only been on the road about a month, and it was on my list of ‘‘mysteries’’ – places I had never heard of before, which had been recommended to me.
From the very first glance at the top of the hill we were absolutely blown away. It’s almost too perfect: the sand, the rocks, the rock pools, the colour of the water.
I love how it’s surrounded by small, unpretentious houses people actually live in, rather than enormous new McMansions, all trying to block one another’s view, despite being empty for most of the year. It’s like going back in time, it’s real New Zealand.
Wayne Timmo (Chief news director, Waikato)
Waikawau Bay in the Coromandel. A dusty and winding road rewards hardy campers with a DOC campground that has all the best bits of New
Zealand holiday folklore, and the beach to match.
A cooling stream bounds one end of the beach with a spot for the tots to swim, while the 2km-long stretch of gleaming sand provides plenty of room and fun waves for an adventurous dip.
A stroll to the far end can make you feel like the only person on that side of the peninsula, and you can doze off at night to the cry of kiwi in nearby bush.
Natasha Holland (Editor, Southland)
Oreti Beach near Invercargill has a stunning long stretch of beach that you can drive on.
It’s a giant playground, and is used year round for endurance and horse riders, and windsurfing. It’s a slice of heaven for dogs to run on freely, runners, and people who gather food from the beach. It’s a long stretch of paradise that everyone in Southland loves.
Pamela Wade (Travel writer)
My favourite beach is a small cove, cupped by land covered in bush that’s dotted with a few wooden baches.
Oystercatchers poke in the shallow pools in the rocks either side. Shags have colonised one straggly po hutukawa, its leaves and the rocks below white with guano. I once encountered a penguin out in the bay.
The beach itself isn’t glamorous sand but rounded pebbles, including shiny polished red ones that might be jasper, or might not. There is sea glass, too: brown, white, green.
A creek comes down from the bush and occasionally rearranges the pebbles before the sea puts them back again.
The beach is always quiet, because it’s a 10-minute walk from the road, and most people prefer to drive to a sandy beach.
So the sun-warmed pebbles, the murmuring birds, the glossy blue sea, and the peace, are all mine. Its name? Not telling. Find your own.
Justine Tyerman (Travel writer)
Anaura Bay, East Coast, North Island. The window of our aged pop-top faces the beach so we can watch the sunrise over the sea, knowing we are among the first people on the planet to see the light of the new day.
We’ve witnessed many a dawn on this most easterly of beaches, but the magic never fades.
The little camping ground an hour north of Gisborne was a favourite summer holiday place when our children were young.
A lagoon would develop each day during the tide cycle, providing the perfect spot for little ones to play safely in warm, shallow water, under the watchful eye of their parents. We never gave a thought to the fact those idyllic holidays would one day come to an end.
Three decades have elapsed since then but the Gizzy clan, sans kids, returns every summer.
The boys still row out to drop crayfish pots near the island, while the girls walk the length of the sickle-shaped bay, barefoot in the white sand and frothy surf.
In the evening we sit on rickety chairs, open a cold beer or bubbly, and watch the sunset. The communal peeling of vegetables as the sun sinks below the horizon in a kaleidoscope of gold and red, is one of life’s sweetest pleasures, and far surpasses any ritzy resort.
We dine by candlelight and reminisce about . . . Anaura Bay.