New Zealand Diaries: Wet Roads & Big Wins
26.05.2025 — Soaked but Smiling: Hahei Beach to Tairua
The day kicked off early—as usual—around 6 a.m. The campground was still and sleepy, with nothing but the gentle sound of rain tapping on the rooftops and soaking into the earth. I brewed a fresh cup of coffee and settled into a cozy little table just outside the kitchen. Laptop out, I wrapped up some work while the world (and Gianluca) slowly started to wake.
Eventually, the rain eased off and the sun began to rise, casting a warm, golden light over everything. We had a quick breakfast, then got to packing up our stuff—it was time to hit the road again.
Today’s destination: Tairua. Just 27 kilometers away, a small coastal town that promised a mellow ride. Our legs were still feeling the burn from previous days, so we planned to take it easy. There was one solid hill—200 meters of climbing—but compared to some of the beasts we’d already tackled, it felt like a gentle bump.
The forecast had warned of rain all day, but as we pedaled out of Hahei, the sun was warming our backs and the sky looked surprisingly friendly. For a moment, we thought we might have dodged the wet weather bullet. But, of course, New Zealand had other plans.
A few sprinkles here and there, but nothing serious. As we approached the final stretch of the hill, we spotted the Whenuakite Kauri trail. We parked the bikes on the roadside and set off for a short hike, eager to stretch our legs and soak in some green.
Back on the bikes, with just 2km left to the summit, the sky turned again. No polite drizzle this time—it poured. Buckets. Within minutes we were drenched. Shoes? Basically aquariums. But surprisingly, we didn’t let it bother us. What else can you do but laugh when you’re riding through a storm, soaked to the bone? So that’s exactly what we did.
After only 9km in total, we rolled into a campground in Tairua looking like two very wet, very cold stray dogs. Fingers numb, feet squelching, bodies shivering—but hey, we made it!
And then, once again, came one of those beautiful moments that restore your faith in humanity. The camp owner, seeing our soggy state, let us pitch our tent under a covered area to stay a little drier. He even handed us a couple of $2 coins so we could enjoy a glorious 7-minute hot shower. Trust me, those 7 minutes felt like a full spa retreat.
Tent set up, bodies finally warmed up, and bellies soon filled with food , we sat back and took it all in. Grateful. Happy. Proud of ourselves for just rolling with whatever came our way. Because at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about, right? Embracing each moment—rain or shine.
Another day, another adventure. Let’s see what tomorrow brings. Whatever it is—we’re ready
Distance: 26.6 km
Ascent: 342 m
27.05.2025 — Through Rainclouds and Sunshine: Tairua to Whangamata
We woke up early to the sound of relentless rain drumming on the tent. It had been coming down all night and showed no sign of easing in the morning. So, we did what any reasonable cyclists would do: procrastinated. We took our sweet time with breakfast, coffee, and staring out at the soggy world.
To add to the charm, our shoes were still soaked from the day before. So, naturally, we employed every last resort: the humble hairdryer! There we were, standing half-asleep, pointing a hairdryer into each shoe like it was some kind of emergency rescue mission. Did it work? Not really. But desperate times, right?
Around 11:30 am, the rain finally took a breather, and we seized the moment. No hesitation—we jumped on our bikes and pedaled off before the weather could change its mind.
The plan for the day was a manageable 36 km ride to Whangamata. As we pedaled out of Tairua, the rain made a brief return just to mess with us—classic. We exchanged that familiar look of “oh no, here we go again,” but luckily, the skies soon gave us a break. While moody clouds lingered above, the rest of the ride stayed dry, which already felt like a small miracle.
The road took us first past Pukepoto and Hikuai—smooth sailing and flat terrain made for a relaxed start. But not long after Hikuai, the real work began: two hefty hills that demanded some proper leg power. They weren’t monstrous, but they were steep enough to get the heart pumping and quads burning.
Still, we held our pace and barely had to stop. Just a few deep breaths, a few curse words maybe, and we kept pushing through.
Then, as if to reward us for the effort, the sun broke through just as we arrived in Whangamata. There’s something magical about rolling into your destination under sunshine after a grey start—it made the town feel all the more welcoming.
We wasted no time setting up camp (the weather forecast promised more rain), then wandered into town to grab supplies for lunch and dinner. Whangamata has a laid-back charm that made it easy to slow down and just enjoy the moment.
The evening wrapped up in the best possible way: a golden sunset stretched over the campground, we kicked back in the chill room, and the familiar patter of rain returned, this time as a gentle soundtrack. Cozy, dry, and full-bellied, we let our eyelids drop and wrapped ourselves up in our sleeping bags like burritos.
Shoes still questionable, legs tired, but hearts full—just another beautifully unpredictable day on the road.
Distance: 36km
Ascent: 408m
28.05.2025 —Another Soaked Saga: Whangamata to Waihi in the Rain
The morning kicked off with an unmistakable theme: wet. The rain had been falling steadily all night, turning the campground into a swamp. Luckily, there was a small, empty cabin nearby with a covered porch—our saving grace. We tucked our bikes and bags under it the night before, feeling slightly proud about this small but important win.
By morning, our routine ran on auto-pilot. Coffee. Oats. Staring at the rain. The sky showed no signs of mercy, but when the downpour briefly turned into a drizzle, we jumped on the chance. We packed up, layered ourselves in every waterproof item we owned, and rolled out—mentally prepared for a very soggy ride to Waihi.
Spoiler: it did not stop raining. Not even for a second.
At first, it was just a gentle mist, the kind you can almost ignore. But as the kilometers ticked by, it ramped up into a full-on soakfest. At one point, we genuinely couldn’t tell if what was dripping down our faces was sweat or rain. Our clothes were clinging to us like a second skin, our socks squelching inside our shoes (yes, the same shoes we tried drying with a hairdryer the day before). But honestly? We laughed through it. It was too ridiculous not to.
The ride itself wasn’t all flat and easy either. There was one particularly punchy hill along the way—long enough to make us work, steep enough to make our legs grumble. Mid-climb, with the rain coming at us sideways and our gears grinding in protest, we looked at each other and just burst out laughing. This was no ordinary bike tour. This was a full-blown aquatic adventure.
Then, finally, the glorious sight: the “Welcome to Waihi” sign. We nearly cheered. And right on cue—as if the town itself had struck a deal with the weather gods—the rain slowed to a stop. The clouds hung low and moody, but we were just grateful for a break.
By that point, we were soaked to the bone and shivering like half-frozen laundry. Hands and feet? Totally numb. We rolled into the campground, only to discover it had nothing but a toilet block and no covered areas. And since the rain was set to continue all night long (not the romantic kind—more the biblical flood variety), we made the call: motel time.
We booked a studio in town for two nights to wait out the rain, dry our gear, and recover. Within minutes of arrival, the floor was a battlefield of socks, jerseys, panniers, gloves, and anything remotely fabric-based. Stuff was hanging from chairs, doorknobs, and improvised clotheslines—we basically turned the place into gear-drying lab.
Then came the long, luxurious shower—well over the standard six-minute campground limit (sorry, not sorry). Even afterward, our fingers and toes were still partly numb. But oh, did it feel good.
We ended the evening stretched out, watching a movie on the TV and gradually drifting off, warm and dry. Yes, the bed was gloriously soft and the heater magical—but somewhere, deep down, we already missed the cozy chaos of our little tent.
Strange, isn’t it? How quickly a few square meters of nylon can feel like home.
Distance: 32km
Ascent: 496m
29.05.2025 — A Golden Past: A Walk Through Waihi’s Mining History
Waihi might seem a sleepy little town today, but it’s got a golden past—literally.
Maining in Waihi stretches across three centuries, with gold first discovered way back in 1878 on Martha Hill (Pukewa). Two hopeful miners, John McCombie and Robert Lee, found gold but didn’t get the hype they hoped for—so they walked away. A year later, William Nicholl picked up the claim and named it “Martha” after a family member. After a few more claims, the “Martha Company” was created.
By the 1890s, big money from London rolled in when the Waihi Gold Mining Company took over. Around the same time, miners started using cyanide to pull more gold and silver out of the hard quartz rock—a game-changing move that made mining here way more profitable.
The mighty Martha mine quickly became one of the world’s top producers of gold and silver. By the time it closed in 1952, it had produced as much as 174,160 kg of gold and 1,193,180 kg of silver—That’s a lot of bling!
The original mine was a maze of tunnels— 175km of them, on 15 levels, going 600m deep.
Over the years, miners used picks, shovels, wagons (sometimes pulled by horses), and a lot of perseverance to pull the precious ore. The rock was then shipped off to the Victoria Battery in Waikino to be crushed and processed.
They even had steam-powered pumps working overtime to keep groundwater at bay until electricity arrived in 1913, thanks to the company’s own hydro station on the Waikato River.
Even thought nowadays mining looks a little bit different, the open pit at the Martha Mine is still in action, along with modern underground projects like the Correnso mine. But the old Cornish Pumphouse still stands watch over town—a solid reminder of Waihi’s golden roots.
If you’re ever in the area, take a wander around the pit rim walk or pop into the Gold Discovery Centre. Who knows—you might just strike a little gold of your own.
30.05.2025—Sun, Rain, Wind, Repeat: Waihi to Tauranga
The day started with hope. The sky wasn’t throwing water at us, the wind was only mildly uncooperative for now, and finally it felt like the weather gods were giving us a break. We took that as a green light to pack up and dismantle our highly advanced gear-drying laboratory.
After some intense bag-Tetris, we climbed back on our faithful bikes, feeling optimistic—even excited—for the ride to Tauranga. Spoiler alert: optimism is a dangerous game when you’re cycle touring.
The route was a relentless game of up-and-down, and not always the fun kind. Think more “hamstrings on fire” and less “wheee!”. At some point we genuinely started wondering if someone had built a secret rollercoaster track into this part of New Zealand. It was beautiful, no doubt—but also a bit like nature was testing us just for fun.
The weather, of course, couldn’t make up its mind. We got sun, then a drizzle, then a gust of wind that made us feel like we were riding sideways. Combine that with some fast-moving traffic zipping past us on narrow roads, and you’ve got a lovely cocktail of adrenaline and mild terror. We stayed alert. We stayed balanced. We stayed very much on edge.
Lunch was quick and glamorous: two protein bars each in Katikati, eaten while standing next to our bikes parked at a petrol station.
The final stretch into Tauranga wasn’t that long, slightly uphill, and into the wind. But we made it!
And nothing has ever felt quite as luxurious as the hot shower that followed. After peeling off what felt like our entire skin layer’s worth of sweat and dust, we settled in and faced the next real challenge: dinner.
On today’s menu—canned spaghetti in a cheesy tomato sauce. Yup, you read that right. It was the kind of meal that makes you question your life choices… Gianluca, proud Italian, didn’t even seem that sceptical—though I’m 1000% convinced if the Italian pasta police ever found out, he’d be banned from the country for ever, no doubt!
The texture was questionable (imagine something that once dreamed of being pasta but gave up halfway through), but the sauce was surprisingly not awful. We gave it a solid 5/10. A win in the world of camp cuisine.
We followed it up with a round of emergency snacks and a slow crawl into our tent, where our sleeping bags felt like a warm hug from the universe. Within minutes, we surrendered to the force of our eyes closing.
Tomorrow’s plan? A light, breezy ride into the city center (finally without our heavy bags—freedom!). We’ll hunt down a laundromat to rescue our clothes from their current “savage” state, and swing by a bike shop to sort out a few minor quirks our bikes have picked up along the way. Nothing major.
Distance: 58.35km
Ascent: 640m
31.05.2025— A Day in Tauranga
Today was exactly what we needed: no heavy pedaling, no weather drama, no cans of questionable spaghetti—just a relaxed day in Tauranga, soaking in the small joys of cycle touring life without actually touring.
We started the morning by giving our bikes a break—and ourselves a treat: a ride into town without the bags. Honestly, it felt like flying. Suddenly we could accelerate and even breathe uphill without grumbling. Who knew removing 15+ kilos of gear could make us feel like Tour de France contenders?
Our route into the city took us through the lovely Cambridge Park, a peaceful, green little stretch that gave us all the calm, leafy vibes. It was the kind of place where you instinctively slow down just to enjoy the surroundings. We almost forgot we were on a mission.
First stop: laundromat. A deeply satisfying experience, considering our clothes had started developing a personality of their own. There’s something magical about the smell of clean laundry—it’s like your whole life just leveled up.
While the washing machines did their thing, we headed to a local bike shop to show our beloved steeds some love. Nothing serious—Just a couple of small fixes: the usual stand-tightening and an unsuccessful attempt to revive Julia’s rear light. She’s still riding safely, just… less illuminated.
With laundry folded and bikes feeling (almost) like new, we had the afternoon free to explore. We wandered through Tauranga’s city center, stopping in at a few outdoor shops to top up on essentials.
Time passed quickly—as it always does when you’re not staring at a hill—and before we knew it, the sun was already thinking about setting. We cruised back to our camp, the evening light golden and calm, and set to work on a dinner that didn’t come from a can.
Tonight’s menu: rice with lentils. Actual cooked food, made with intention (and seasoning). It wasn’t a five-star meal, but it hit the spot, and it felt good to eat something warm that didn’t make us question our choices.
The rest of the evening was pure wind-down mode. Cozy in our little tent, bellies full, bikes quiet, and clothes smelling like they hadn’t lived in a pannier for a week. Not bad at all.
Next up: back on the road—but with fresh legs, fixed bikes, and clean socks. Life is good.