..from east to west...

Today I am going over to the west coast...I have already seen 20 sunrises, but no sunset yet, so off to the west. A small road leads through Kaweka Park, 139 km with no gas station promises little traffic. In the next 2 hours, I will only encounter 10 vehicles. The initially cultivated landscape (forest gone, meadow there. Sheep on it) is quickly replaced by forests, singing along to Pink Floyd, I carve along the slightly uphill road to the plateau...how well I feel.... The area reminds me of Corsica or later the Alps. After 50 km, a small town, I stop at the only store and buy myself a piece of cake. There's no coffee, the power is out. Another 40 km ahead, farms appear again, the area seems more settled. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small plane take off, I stop and see an improvised runway on the hill opposite. For 20 minutes, I watch the plane as it sprays powder over the slopes, quickly lands, and takes off again fully loaded just 2 minutes later. He barely clears the ridge, with the engine roaring, he pulls his curves... I would have liked to fly with him, later I regret my comfort, not even trying in anticipation of a rejection. Also, something that preoccupies me here and where I want to change...on the main road, I decide on a larger detour, so first towards the north, past Mount Ruapehu, 2700 m high, a popular ski area. Along white and yellow roads (my preferred routes), I finally reach Mokau on the Tasman Sea. A secluded beach invites me to take a break, black shimmering sand and the eroded rocks create a beautiful contrast. What looks like stone is actually ash from the last major volcanic eruptions, that's how the shell was enclosed at that time. Wild waves roar loudly, what a contrast to the calm Pacific. Once again, I miss an opportunity to explore this ocean a bit, I have to change something next year. Back on the main road, I finally turn to the south. Annoyingly, another car throws small stones at my windshield in a construction zone. A double hit shows the typical spider webs, in the next larger town, I find out from a window service that a repair is no longer possible. Such a nuisance, I can already see myself getting on the plane next year with a new windshield under my arm. In New Plymouth, I briefly leave the coastline and take a shortcut. In doing so, I bypass Mount Taranaki, also of volcanic origin and not quite as high at 2,500m, but the center of a very popular hiking and climbing region. 200 km before Wellington, I find a spot by the sea, just in time for sunset, to take a few pictures.