Time: One hour and 50 minutes
Distance: 7.6 km
I bolt down my breakfast and head to the beach at 6:50 am just in time to see the sun rise. Fabulous. Others have the same idea and all along the sand dunes people are popping up like pagan worshippers, sipping their coffees and getting Instagram worthy photos. Seagulls are swooping down on the sand just in front of me, feeding on insects. Sand hoppers I think.
Today I'm walking the sand dune track on my own (Level 3 Covid19 Lockdown), starting at the South New Brighton Surf Club and heading south. The new club house, architecturally designed, while not exactly pretty, looks functional and a step up from the old one.
I walk diagonally through KÅrero Kororo Reserve (seagull's chatter) to the beach access at the far end. Not sign posted, the dune path goes from here. The dunes are a raggedy scraggy collection of weeds - marram grasses, iceplant and lupin with the odd native copse in between. Some people would like to see them flattened and 'tidied up' (the council once had a daft plan for a promenade), but I quite like the unkempt look. I once volunteered for a dune study and found out that they are full of critters, (wetas and lizards for example).
We live nearby but don't walk the dune path very often. One reason is that it's usually nicer to walk on the beach. On the dune path heading south you just don't see the sea at all. But you can hear it and smell it and actually it is very pleasant walking. Slightly undulating, the path is narrow and so you have to be careful that you don't burst anyone's bubble.
I bypass my house. It's the one on Marine Parade with the terribly unkempt and weedy frontage. I'm involuntarily cultivating the 'dune' look. I am tempted to pop into Cafe Kaianga for a cuppa and change of shoes (my current ones are already full of sand and sopping wet). But I am on a roll. I come to a halt only when I stumble upon a life size nativity scene. This is where the dune path intersects with Bon Suter's Sculpture Garden. Bon is a local artist who has been running limestone sculpture classes here for years. I take some shots of -I think it is- Jesus (although he looks a wee bit like my husband). I notice that if I move slightly to the left his head becomes crowned by the cabbage tree in the distance behind him. A nifty trick of perspective -a bit like holding the Eiffel Tower in your hand or propping up the leaning tower of Pisa. I feel inspired to try and incorporate this design idea into more of my photographs.
I take a detour to explore the sculpture garden: A madonna and child; three goddesses; a horse; a maori carving of a man holding his penis; a woman in a bikini (I know this one to be carved by a man who is deaf and blind) and something that resembles a giant clitoris.
I continue south. Marine Parade ends and I am parallel to Rocking Horse Road. I go past the house we lived in (since rebuilt) during our Earthquake repairs. Small tracks branch off the main dune path hither and thither. These tracks usually lead to the lanes that run off Rocking Horse Road which are named mostly after birds, in alphabetical order. Godwit, Heron, Kingfisher, Penguin, Plover, Pukeko, Stilt, Tern, Torea. I have a fleeting memory: a friend of a friend of a friend's father named them.
At the Tern Street beach access the dune path comes to an abrupt halt. From here houses and sections block the path. I know it is Tern Street because when I head out to the beach there is one of those daft road signs. A fresh breeze is blowing and it is sunny as.
Someone waves at me. It's Kim. He tino pai rawa atu e hoa! So lovely to see a friend and have a catch up at a safe distance. As I walk back along the beach to the surf club, the black backed gulls (kororo) are swooping high to drop their shells.
The Beach Box is open for coffee. I don my mask and order a triple shot flat white with a chocolate danish, then head back to the seat at the beach to savour it. Heaven. Three seagulls befriend me for the duration of the danish. Caffeine soars into my veins and I snap a couple of nifty perspective photos. Look closely.
